


Black Trolling

by startabby



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Crack Treated Seriously, Don't copy to another site, Gen, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Trolling the Wizarding World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-07-09 12:51:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 41
Words: 72,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19888129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startabby/pseuds/startabby
Summary: In the canon Harry Potter universe, Sirius and Walburga Black’s mutual hatred is the stuff of legends. But, what if that hatred wasn’t real? What if, instead, it was secretly one massive prank?Behind closed doors, House Black is strong and united.Harry Potter would know; after all, he’s secretly been raised as the Blacks’ pride and joy. But, shhh, you can’t tell anyone that.Much of this story was originally written for April 2018's Rough Trade Challenge: 'Call it Magic', though it has seen some editing since then.





	1. When is a 'Troll' a Good Thing?

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally inspired by a short piece of fiction I read wherein Harry and Portrait!Walburga are secretly friends while sharing Grimmauld Place post Battle of Hogwarts. The humor built into their trolling Harry's friends and others made me think, what if Sirius and Walburga had that type of relationship from the beginning. Everything kind of flowed from there.  
> 

* * *

##  **When is a 'Troll' a good thing?**


	2. Letter Interlude: Sorting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius and Walburga Black begin their game of 'Trolling' at a grand scale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've done image versions of the letters, but just in case they're not readable on certain devices, I've also included the text below.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

September 1st, 1970

Dear Mum,

This letter comes to you from the first year boys Gryffindor dorm.

Yep, you read that right, Gryffindor. I’ll wait for you to stop laughing.

You done? Great.

Looks like phase two of project ‘Trick the Wizarding World’ is off to a brilliant start.

On the Express, I stuck with Cousin James, you know, the Potter heir. He’s going to be an awesome straight man. Such a typical Gryffindor. We’re going to be ‘best friends’. Auntie Dorea must shake her head at how clueless her little godson is.

We ran into this Muggleborn, a redhead girl, and, of course, he fell instantly in love. She’s best friends with Cousin Eileen’s son Severus, you know my ‘nemesis’. Sev and I threw fake insults at each other, then dragged our friends off to different compartments.

Sadly, you were right about political stuff on the train journey. Groan….

I had lots of ‘visitors’, mostly older purebloods trying to get the heirs to go to the ‘right’ house…

My favourite visit was good old Lucy Malfoy. He’s one of the new prefects and stopped in during his ‘rounds’. The prat tried to bribe me with the ‘secret’ to sorting Slytherin. He kept the letter of the traditional secret – the Hat – but told me to ‘focus on your Family ambitions when the time comes’. I nearly laughed in his face.

To be fair, he didn’t know that Blacks ignore the tradition. After all, our ancestors helped enchant the ~~bloody~~ thing. 

One benefit of our last name, getting sorted early. There were only two kids ahead of me. By the way, Harvey says hello and that he misses teatime. I promised to try and live up to your example.

Harvey loved my sorting idea, said it was a prank worthy of Slytherin and Gryffindor (aka Sal and Ric). Did you know they were best friends when they first started Hogwarts?

Anyways, we chatted for a long time, so everyone thought I was a hat-stall. Plus, we made it look like we were arguing.

After he finally shouted GRYFFINDOR you could hear a pin drop, everyone was so surprised. I’ll show you a pensieve memory over Yule.

Finally, Jamie started cheering, which broke the silence. He joined me at the Gryffindor table later, of course. Dumbledore’s eyes looked like stars they were twinkling so hard. I know I can use this to our advantage with the ‘Light Lord’.

Your move,

Siri


	3. Welcome (Back) to Grimmauld Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the summer before Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts, and he has just faced down a pair of Dementors who attacked him and his cousin Dudley. In the process, however, he managed to get in trouble with the British Ministry of Magic. But now, Headmaster Dumbledore's vigilante organization has escorted him from the Muggle suburb of Little Whinging and into the heart of London....

When Harry opened the note and read:

_The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number 12 Grimmauld Place_

He couldn’t help the smirk that appeared on his face. He did his best to hide it from his companions, not that it was hard. Their attention was focused elsewhere.

While Harry was busy controlling his facial expressions, something magical was happening in front of him. The row of townhouses across the street shifted, two of them splitting apart to reveal yet another house. Unlike the rest of the row, this house lacked the modern touches warming the faded brick facade. Instead, it stood dark and foreboding. No electric lights were to be seen, whether glowing from the windows or hanging beside the front door. Instead, the only illumination in view was a dim, old-fashioned gas lamp. That lamp hung next to the main entrance and flickered as if lit by a flame. 

Harry’s smile widened. It was good to be home.

Acting like the clueless Gryffindor that most people believed him to be, Harry followed Uncle Remy _\-- No wait, Professor Lupin -- No wait, Remus_ \-- up a short stretch of stairs. Passing through the front door, he reached the dark hallway beyond. Behind him, the other members of his escort followed in close array. As they did so, their bodies filled up most of the entry space.

It was only once everyone was inside and the door was shut that the hall lights were lit. Despite the added light, the entire group still moved like thieves instead of guests, almost tiptoeing down the hall.

But then Tonks, her hair standing out bright pink in the dim hallway, tripped over the troll’s leg umbrella stand while trying to shift Harry’s trunk. The stand hit the floor with a loud thud.

 _Oh boy,_ Harry thought as he hid his grin; he knew what was coming. _Three… Two… One…_

“Intruders! Scum! Soiling my home!”

The curtains that hung along one wall of the dim hallway flew aside. Their movement revealed the Magical portrait of an older woman, seated in an ornately upholstered chair and dressed in dark formal robes. She would have looked distinguished, that is, if it weren’t for the snarl on her face and the foul words spewing from her lips.

Before the portrait woman could go too far, however, the door at the other end of the hall slammed open with a bang.

“Be quiet Mother,” Sirius Black growled as he stalked through the door. Unlike the portrait, his dress was aggressively Muggle – a worn band t-shirt and black jeans. While his thin frame and pale skin still bore the marks of his time in Azkaban, he looked otherwise whole and healthy.

Waving his wand efficiently, Sirius cast a silencing hex at the portrait before grabbing one side of the curtains, then the other, and closed them tightly. As the portrait disappeared from view, the woman in it glanced towards Harry and gave the briefest suggestion of a wink even as she continued to yell silently.

“Unfortunately the hex only holds for so long,” Sirius added with a huff even as he looked towards the entrance. When he saw who was standing at the door, his face shifted into a huge grin. He threw his arms open wide. Harry hurried over, folding himself into his godfather’s bony frame.

“I’ve missed you pa’ foo,” he whispered into Sirius’ shoulder, “I keep hearing the laugh.”

Sirius stiffened and his hug grew even tighter.

“We’ve got the room Warded and potions available for when you need,” he murmured in reply, before continuing in a much louder voice. “Welcome, Harry, to my childhood home. I’m afraid it’s not the nicest place to be, but if there’s one thing the Blacks were always good at, that’s protecting what’s theirs.”

The comment was enough to break the rest of the crowd of Order members that had gathered in the hallway from their stupor. Everyone started moving again.

Emerging from the doorway behind Sirius, Mrs. Weasley came bustling up. With motherly enthusiasm, she claimed Harry from his godfather.

“Now dear, I’m afraid the rest of the children are already in bed, but it looks like you could use some supper before you join them.” She sniffed, looked him over, and exclaimed. “Don’t those Muggles feed you? You look like skin and bones.”

“I just haven’t had much of an appetite,” Harry replied.

He always had a hard time eating whenever he stayed with his Muggle relatives. Besides the fact that they fed him processed Muggle crud, their hatred for him and his ‘freakishness’ made his stomach churn. His lack of sleep from nightmares of Voldemort’s return had also made him constantly nauseous.

“Nonsense, you’re a growing boy,” Mrs. Weasley sniffed. She led him down the stairs into the basement kitchen. Unlike the hallway above, it was warm and cheery with lots of gold-toned light all around. It had seen plenty of recent use.

A large slab wooden table ran along one side of the room. Mrs. Weasley guided Harry over to it. Once there, she sat him down on one of the benches that stood on either side of the massive structure.

“I’ve set aside a plate of leftovers from dinner for you,” she said as she pulled a full plate – cottage pie and a side of treacle tart – out of the stasis drawer. It was still warm. Besides, finally being home had made Harry’s appetite surge up. He dived into the food with a will.

“Now then,” she said as he ate. “I’d intended for you to room with Ronald, but Sirius insisted that you should have a room in the family corridor.” Her voice indicated what she thought of this idea.

“Apparently,” here she glared at Sirius, “your parents and godfather did a formal blood bond to name you his Heir, barring the birth of any children of his own.”

Harry smothered his grin at her outrage. Though she didn’t know it, the room he’d been ‘given’ was really HIS bedroom.

The next morning, Harry woke early, glad to be home from ‘Durzkaban’. As he yawned and stretched, he murmured, “Kreacher.”

With a pop, the house-elf appeared beside his bed.

“Blessed Morning, young Master Harry,” he said.

Those who’d seen Kreacher wandering about the house recently would have been astonished. The being was neatly dressed in a clean toga of white cotton. His eyes, their colour a deep blue common to the house-elves in service to the Black Family, shone clear with no sign of madness. In short, he appeared a fine example of a healthy house-elf of indeterminate age. 

“Morning Kreach,” Harry replied. “How are you doing with all our visitors?”

“Foolish Witches and Wizards be too busy obeying Dumbles to notice what’s missing,” Kreacher replied. “Only public areas of the house are being open, and Kreacher is having made them look horrible before Master bes bringing guests into the house.”

Kreacher looked at Harry with a wicked smirk. “Dog Master be letting Kreacher have fun with ugly disguises and saying nasty things to stupid guests. We are being mortal enemies, Dog Master and I.”

“That sounds bloody brilliant, Kreacher. I can’t wait to see your act live.” Harry leaned back against his pillows with a thump. “I wish that everyone wasn’t here, though,” he admitted. “I’d like a chance to just be with family, you know, without having to pretend.”

“Upstairs parlour is being hidden, Master Harry,” Kreacher offered. “If youse can sneak away with Dog Master, or Wolf, or Clumsy, or even Prince when he visits, then you can bes having safe time. Mistress Dory has also promised to stop by if you need her.”

“You’re right, as usual, Kreacher,” Harry replied sitting upright again. “Now, is anyone in the kitchen yet? I want breakfast and I’m guessing that you can’t be cooking and serving meals like usual if you’re play-acting.”

“Yes, loud Wheezy be down making breakfast with Wolf. No one else be up yet.”

“Loud Wheezy? Oh, you mean Mrs. Weasley?”

Kreacher nodded.

Harry laughed. “I like it. She does have a habit of yelling. Has Uncle Remy been able to get away with staying?”

“Dog Master be convincing Dumbles that he is being needed to keep Master contained,” Kreacher offered as they shared a smirk. “Dog Master bes having much fun with trolling Order peoples.”

As a kid, Harry had followed in that honoured Black family tradition. And of course, Kreacher was his partner-in-crime. Harry knew that both Sirius and Regulus had done the same as children. Though, to be fair, Kreacher had usually teamed up with Regulus during prank wars in those days. They had worked together to take down the older Black twin when the two brothers were at odds.

When Sirius had moved back into the Black townhouse after his escape from Azkaban, he had claimed the house-elf’s partnership. Back in his childhood home, after over a decade trapped in a prison cell, had made Sirius revert. He had moments of acting like a child, including playing pranks with Kreacher.

Harry sobered for a moment. “Seriously though, Kreacher, how is Padfoot doing around so many people who believed his guilt, despite everything he did for the Order?”

Kreacher’s ears folded inward, a sure sign of house-elf distress. “Dog Master is being hiding in his rooms up here lots, especially after Wheezys’ are being here. Kreacher is being very busy protecting house from guests, otherwise Kreacher bes doing more.”

“It’s okay Kreacher,” Harry soothed. Then he grinned, “I’ve got a couple of ideas that might help.”

When Harry entered the kitchen, he found not only Mrs. Weasley and Remus, but also Sirius and the girls.

It was clear from his position that Sirius was still half-asleep. He sat at one end of the kitchen table staring blankly into a cup of black coffee. During his stay in Azkaban, he had gotten into the habit of drinking the bitter brew to keep warm in the icy climate.

By his side, Remus sat relaxing with the Daily Prophet and a cup of tea. Remus, the only one who noticed Harry’s arrival, looked up and smirked when he realized where Harry was headed. On tiptoes, Harry crept up behind Sirius and flicked him on the ear.

“Knock it off, Moony,” Sirius muttered, then glanced over at his friend. Realizing that both Remus’ hands were in plain view he spun around, nearly taking out his cup before Remus pulled it away.

“Oh! Good morning, pup!” the grin on Sirius’ face was just as bright as it had been the night before. Despite their regular communication via letters and mirrors, it was still a novelty for Sirius to have his godson physically beside him. He grabbed Harry and swung him onto his lap for a big hug.

“Let me go, Paddy!” Harry protested the indignity as only a teenage boy could. Everyone else at the table smiled indulgently. While she had a bad habit of viewing Sirius through the lens of his ‘reputation’, Mrs. Weasley hated to see anyone sad. Besides, it was clear that Harry loved Sirius, and Harry was one of ‘hers’. He had been since that day at Kings Cross.

“Sit down, Harry dear,” she insisted as he pushed himself out of Sirius’ lap. “I’ll get you a plate. You too Sirius, you’re both far too skinny.”

Harry and Sirius rolled their eyes in unison at Remus even as they accepted the food. Ginny giggled at the response, causing Harry to stick his tongue out at her.

After the horrific experience that Ginny had with the Diary Horcrux and the Chamber of Secrets, Harry had reached out to the younger girl. While his original intention was to check that ‘Tom’ hadn’t left any surprises, Harry found that Ginny had a snarky wit like her twin brothers and a temper almost as bad as his own.

Along the way, he’d come to see her as a younger sister. This attitude was reinforced when they’d teamed up to take on Fred and George in a prank war during her second (and his third) year. With her childhood friend Luna Lovegood of Ravenclaw and her half-blood cousin, Mafalda (Mal) Prewitt of Slytherin, Ginny made up what Harry jokingly called the Trio of Terror, his secret spy network at Hogwarts.

When the Weasleys moved into Grimmauld Place, Ginny had kept Harry informed about things happening at Headquarters. Between Tom, Harry, and even Luna and Mal, Ginny’s loyalty to the _Cult of Dumbledore_ was nearly non-existent. Thus, she had no problem ignoring the man’s orders when she disagreed, unlike her brother Ron and Hermione.

“So, what’s the update on the twins?” Harry leaned over to Ginny and asked with a grin. “Have they figured out the big secret yet?”

Harry and Ginny had convinced Remus and Sirius to help them play a long con on the twins. They were keeping the secret of the Marauders’ identities from the pair until just the right moment.

“Nope. I told Hermione and Ronniekins that we were keeping it a secret. So far they’ve managed to keep mum.”

“Excellent,” Harry put his elbows on the table and tapped his fingers together in imitation of a supervillain from the movies.

Ginny giggled again as Sirius elbowed Harry in the ribs, triggering another round of laughter.

The sheer volume of their laughter finally crossed the threshold to the point where it disturbed Hermione. She was perched at the far corner of the kitchen table, engrossed in a book likely borrowed from the public area of the Black library.

“Stop shaking the table,” she commented absently. Then she looked up and squealed. “Harry!”

“Morning, Hermione,” he said with a wince. “How have you been with ‘you-know-what’?” The sarcasm in his words was clear as a bell.

“Oh, well, Harry, that is,” Hermione paused, stumbling over her words at the look on Harry’s face. “Dumbledore told us it wasn’t safe to say anything. The owls might be intercepted.”

“Really, now, and you couldn’t find another way to send messages. Like… say, ask one of my guards to drop them off.”

“Now Harry, dear, Hermione couldn’t have known…” Mrs. Weasley tried to interrupt but was stopped by Remus.

“Molly, this is between Harry and Hermione. Don’t try to defend the girl, after all, your daughter managed to work this out.”

“Ginny?” Hermione and Mrs. Weasley asked in unison.

The girl in question rolled her eyes. “Of course Mum, I wasn’t going to leave my other big brother to suffer alone. Professor Lupin has been my go-between since we moved into Headquarters.”

“You know that I’m not your Professor any more Ginny.”

“No, but you’ll always be The Professor.”

“She’s got you there, Remy,” Sirius agreed as Harry nodded.

“Really,” Mrs. Weasley huffed, interrupting the byplay.

Harry returned to his conversation. “Yes. Every single person managed to check on me and pass along real updates with only two exceptions. Hermione and Ron.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t…”

“No, of course you didn’t Mrs. Weasley, but you don’t normally. I’ve been getting messages from Ginny, Sirius, Remus, even the twins sent a brief note on my birthday, but no word from my ‘best friends’ beyond we’re busy, lot’s happening but we can’t tell you anything until we see you, which will be soon.” Harry snorted in disgust. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I was hoping to hear.”

“Oh, and Ron, you may as well come out and hear this too,” Harry called. A thud was heard on the stairs. Then, a sheepish Ron slunk into view, followed closely by the twins. 

“You know, even if you couldn’t figure out how to send secure messages there were still things you could have said. Like maybe: ‘read the details of the paper and not just the headlines, Harry’. ‘It’s not your fault this happened, Harry’. ‘We’re here for you, Harry’. Instead, I got ‘we can’t talk about you-know-what, Harry’. ‘We’re busy but you’ll have to wait to find out why, Harry’. And even, ‘we’re staying together but you can’t be here, Harry’.”

With every statement, Harry’s voice grew sharper and colder until the last few were practically spat at Ron and Hermione. Ginny and Sirius grabbed Harry in a hug from opposite sides, as he continued.

“If that’s what _best friends_ do for you after a trauma like Voldemort’s return,” Harry paused to wait for the winces at the use of the name to die down. “Then I’m not sure I want them anymore.”

The awkwardness remained for the rest of the day. Meanwhile, Mrs. Weasley marshalled the teens present as if they were a military troop. She then put them to work cleaning the house.

Of course, Remus and Sirius had disappeared shortly after breakfast. This was their normal routine, Ginny had whispered to Harry. According to the girl, Remus was off to work his shift at a Muggle bookshop. Meanwhile, Sirius was sulking in his room in the family wing, having been banned from leaving the house.

Now, Harry knew that both men were busy doing Black Family business, which was quite different from what Ginny and the others believed. Still, he knew better than to break their cover with Mrs. Weasley and the rest of the Order.

“Right, pair up my dears,” Mrs. Weasley said as Harry and the rest lined up in the hallway outside the drawing-room.

Claiming his partner, Harry grabbed Ginny’s arm. The twins teamed up as a matter of course, leaving Ron and Hermione as the third pairing.

“There’s a nasty Doxy infestation in the curtains and other soft surfaces of the drawing-room. I’ve never seen one as bad as this before.”

Harry smirked, remembering how he and Kreacher had started the ‘Doxy Infestation’.

They had been playing a prank on Sirius the summer after he ‘escaped’ from Azkaban. First, they planted a collection of Doxies in the curtains. Second, they hid them from view with as simple notice-me-not. Third, they lured the dog animagus into the drawing-room to ‘play hide and seek’. Fourth and finally, they sealed him in the room and set off a dung bomb. The stink was both distasteful and useful for riling up the hidden pests.

The yelps and howls that Sirius let out as he tried to immobilize the beasts had Kreacher and Harry rolling on the floor with laughter from their place outside the doors. Of course, after several minutes of ruckus, Remus came by, saw the snickering pair, and came to his friend’s rescue. The event had kicked off a prank war that lasted until Harry and Remus had left for Hogwarts to ‘meet for the first time since the Potter’s deaths’.

Over the next two years, Kreacher had allowed the infestation to remain and spread, incorporating it into the house’s disguise. As far as the Wizarding World was aware, Grimmauld Place had been abandoned since Walburga’s death several years before. The Doxy infestation in the drawing-room was evidence of that fact.

Mrs. Weasley handed each pair a Doxycide mister and a bin, then ushered them inside.

“The infestation appears to be centred in the curtains. Spray to immobilize, and then collect the pests in the bins.”

Exchanging grins and yells, Ginny, Harry and the twins charged into action. They raced to see who could capture the largest number of the beasts. Ron and Hermione hesitantly joined in, despite Harry’s cold shoulder. The afternoon became a blur of shrieks and laughter, as the teens took the opportunity to find some pleasure in their task.


	4. Letter Interlude: Groundwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walburga and Orion's response to Sirius sorting Gryffindor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've done image versions of the letters, but just in case they're not readable on certain devices, I've also included the text below.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

September 4th, 1970

Dear Mum,

That was bloody brilliant!!!!!!!!!!!!

Your message arrived right as I was finishing breakfast in the Great Hall and exploded in front of everyone.

Bella was cackling like the hag she is, while Andy just looked annoyed and Cissa’s eyes got bigger and bigger and bigger as the message went on. The response of the pureblood Slytherin group was especially funny.

They looked torn between agreeing with your message and disagreeing with how you sent it.

Sev nearly hurt something; holding in his laughter. You know he figured out our game years ago. Jamie, the daft bugger, thought you were serious. He spent the day ‘comforting’ me. Plus, he convinced our other dorm mates to help.

Dumbledore came over after the Howler ended, McGonagall at his side. She looked super pissed by your letter. I think she wants to adopt me. I’m kind of tempted to let her. She’s about your age, right? What do you think, should I let her?

On the other hand, HE acted upset but the bloody wanker couldn’t control the twinkle in his eyes. Besides, I mean I know he’s a trained Legilimens, but seriously! He tried to READ me right there in the Great Hall! He did it wordlessly, but still.

I can’t believe people don’t realize. Or does he only do it with the ‘little students’? Since he had to be subtle, I think I was able to trick him. I used the nested shields trick father taught us, with the top one weak enough to ‘leak’ my emotions - upset and determination.

Tell father thanks for making sure I was covered on that front.

Your still beloved son,

Sirius

P.S. Tell father that his letter was perfect. Following your Howler, it made our family’s ‘estrangement’ easy to believe. I even showed it to McGonagall when she asked me if I was all right later. 


	5. Preparing for a Hearing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius and the rest of the Family Black make plans for Harry's Hearing.

“All right, what do we need to do?” Sirius rubbed his hands together. Then he reached out and stretched as he considered recent events.

At the last Order of the Phoenix meeting, the incident with the Dementors in Little Whinging had been discussed. When asked, Dumbledore had, of course, told the Order that he had everything with the Ministry under control. Then he told them that they should focus their efforts on other matters. 

Sirius was unsurprised when most of the Order shrugged and accepted the Hogwarts Headmaster’s words as gospel. After all, that was their normal mode of operations. The Black Family, on the other hand, were not so sanguine.

Despite Dumbledore’s assurances, Sirius could easily conjure up an entire list of problems with the whole affair.

First, and most obvious, where did the bloody Dementors come from? Supposedly, all Dementors in the UK were in the control of the Ministry. As such, the beasts were only allowed to leave Azkaban under four types of scenarios. The four scenarios were as follows.

****

**_A Dementor could be sent, escorted, on the hunt for an escaped prisoner for whom a ‘kiss-on-sight’ order had been placed._ **

**_A Dementor could be assigned as a guard. In that role, they were permitted to accompany a Ministry representative escorting a prisoner to Azkaban. This was done when the prisoner was known to be dangerous or had many friends who might attempt a ‘rescue’ during transit._ **

**_A Dementor could be sent with a Ministry escort to execute – Kiss – a condemned prisoner. Since the application of the Dementor’s Kiss was normally reserved to Azkaban Prison, such instances were rare. It was only under extreme circumstances that a prisoner could not be transported to the site prior to their execution._ **

**_A Dementor could be used to defend an important personage. Dementor guard duty was only used in extreme cases. After all, a Dementor guard still gave off their natural, terror-inducing aura, an unpleasant experience for the protected._ **

****

None of those options fit what happened in Little Whinging.

Therefore, the Dementors were acting outside official Ministry control. Someone else had control of them. It could be Voldemort or one of his allies. Or… it could be someone inside the Ministry with a personal grudge against Harry.

Second, there was the timing of the attack. It just _happened_ to occur when Harry’s guard was missing and he was out of the protection of the Wards.

Sirius snorted, “just happened, yeah right.” The Dementors’ controller must have been spying on Harry and his protection detail.

Besides, the Ministry had sent that first letter far too fast. Thus, the attacker was at least in contact with the Ministry. They must have tipped the monitors off that Harry had been the one to cast the Patronus. It wasn’t like he’d gotten a letter every time the Order guards did magic while on duty – and they did a lot.

Third, choosing Dementors as the weapon was significant. It meant that the attacker either knew a lot about Harry’s skills or wanted him dead.

The ability to produce a corporeal Patronus was rare for a Wizard of his age. If the attacker didn’t know Harry could do it, they were trying to kill him. On the other hand, if they knew that Harry could do the charm then they deliberately stuck Harry with a catch-22; either he broke the law and got in trouble or he died.

Fourth, the level of punitive action – Harry getting expelled and having his wand broken – threatened in the original letter from the Ministry was illegal.

Technically, such penalties were legitimate punishments for violations of either the **Statute of Secrecy** or the **Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underaged Sorcery**. However, neither could be carried out prior to a hearing. The only legal action allowed was confiscation of Harry’s wand and (maybe) placement into Ministry custody.

Instead, the letter writer suggested punishment before the official ruling. This implied that someone, either Mafalda Hopkirk in the **Improper Use of Magic Office** or her superiors, believed Harry undefended. They would never have dared do such a thing to a normal Heir. For example, if Draco Malfoy had received such a letter his father would be storming the Ministry within minutes. Lord Malfoy would demand that the sender not only retract the letter’s claims, but he would then use the unfortunate wording to get the charge thrown out entirely.

Sirius rubbed his chin, “that’s one option if we need it. I suppose the attacker thinks that the recent attacks on Dumbledore in the press make him – as Harry’s Magical Guardian – too distracted to realize that the letter was inappropriate.”

“Moving on,” he shrugged.

Turning to the large communications mirror hanging on the wall of his study, Sirius initiated a call to his Great Aunt, Dorea Potter.

The Dowager Lady Potter, Dorea was James’ Aunt and Godmother. She was also Harry’s closest Magical relative; the Regent Potter until Harry came of age. Beyond her regency, Dorea also stood as the Potter Wizengamut Proxy, a position that she had held since the 1950s. As Proxy she had represented first her husband, then her nephew, and now her great-nephew in their hereditary place in the British Magical Government.

Over the years, Dorea had built up a treasury of inside information on relationships and alliances between the various political factions. This gave her a unique and useful perspective and power in the Wizengamut.

Moreover, she had been in her position for so long that most of the Wizengamut viewed her – and her seat – as separate from Harry, the Blacks, and Dumbledore. Instead, she was viewed as one of the few remaining _True Neutrals_ , a woman who voted based on the written law instead of any particular agenda. Even Dumbledore had been taken in by her ruse, believing her harmless.

This ruse had been supported when Dorea failed to _claim_ Magical Guardianship of Harry after his parents’ death, appearing to allow Dumbledore to settle Harry with the Dursleys. Of course, the older woman would not have done so if Walburga and the Blacks hadn’t taken care of the issue so efficiently. Instead, Dorea could appear hands-off, ambivalent to Harry’s personal affairs in public. Meanwhile, she was Harry’s loving grandmother in private.

“Dorea Potter,” Sirius told the mirror. The solid surface rippled for a moment, looking like the surface of a pond after a single pebble hits its surface. Then, the ripples cleared to reveal a formal study.

Off to the right of the image sat a large carved desk. Seated behind it was a severe-looking elderly woman, her black hair streaked with silver and confined in a bun at the nape of her neck. From what Sirius could see around the joint obstacles of the mirror’s frame and her desk’s mass, she wore old-fashioned robes in a rich chocolate brown colour.

“Morning, Sirius,” she greeted with a smile that took her face from severe to cheerful in a moment. “How’s my pup?”

“Really, Auntie, stop copying me,” Sirius groaned. Ever since she’d overheard Sirius calling Harry by that nickname, she’d appropriated it for her use.

“But it fits you so well,” she smiled. “After all, you are my pup, no matter your age.”

“Fine. I know Mother put you up to that. So, getting straight to it. Have you heard anything from your _people_ about the latest incident?”

“Nothing specific yet, though the Wizengamut does have a session scheduled for the same day as my grandson’s Hearing. I have heard certain rumours about the meeting as well. Supposedly, the Minister is planning to bring up a Guardianship issue.”

“Interesting. Harry?”

“I believe so. Fortunately, we have the Guardianship files with my name ready if needed,” Dorea added. “It is unbelievable sometimes how blind Wizards can be. I am the Magical Guardian of Harry Potter on record at Gringotts, and dear Remus is his Legal Guardian according to the Muggles, with all the supporting documentation available on both sides of the divide. Despite that, I am fairly certain that the Ministry’s ‘official’ file says something quite different.”

“Still, we can use that if Dumbles’ plans fall through.”

Dorea nodded. “True. Have you heard who is going to be conducting the Hearing?”

“Nothing certain, yet, Auntie. In the Order meeting, Shacklebolt and Dora mentioned that rumours are running rampant in the DMLE. According to them, Harry’s hearing will be with a Senior, possibly even Bones herself. Of course, that could be people spouting off…” 

“You never know,” Dorea commented sagely. She still remembered the mess with Sirius’ arrest.

“I guess. Dunno what the old man has planned. If we need it, Harry was wearing that protection amulet you gave him from the Potter vaults during the incident. That gives us a record of the Dementors’ presence in case we need to prove self-defence.”

“True. If they pull the Statute in, we also have an easy rebuttal. Dudley has an exception as the son of Lily’s sister and a cousin who lives with my grandson. Meanwhile, Mrs. Figg is a Ministry recognized squib.”

“Lives being a relative term, of course,” Sirius said with a snort.

“Yes, but only we know that. Worst case, if the Hearing turns ugly I will be on-hand to step in. My grandson can state that he is a Minor. Therefore, his Magical Guardian or a signed proxy needs to be present for any actions to be legal. If he names me as his Guardian, I can come right over. We’ll send along a Guardianship document from the goblins for proof.”

Sirius barked a laugh. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Revealing any of our cards too early might push other things back.”

“True, but that is a small secret. Anyone who knows their Inheritance Laws would recognize that I am in the right, legally anyway. We can sell the idea that I’ve chosen to allow Dumbledore to ignore my rights as long as I was satisfied with his care, without compromising any other secrets.”

“Fair,” Sirius agreed. “I just wanted to be the one to claim Harry.”

“I know, pup,” Dorea paused for a moment. “Oh, I just remembered. You will need to inform whoever is playing escort that they should show up early. That blowhard Fudge and his slimy Undersecretary Umbridge like to play games with time. They have a nasty habit of changing meeting times at the last minute. The trick is regularly used to stack Wizengamut meetings with their supporters. The Chamber doors are sealed once the session begins, and official decisions can be made as long as a quorum is reached.”

“Good point. I know I can’t go with Harry so it’ll probably be Arthur Weasley. I think Remy might go as _emotional support_ , especially if I whine about not getting to go.”

“I’m sure that our Harry would appreciate that idea.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on Dorea’s door. With a sigh, she glanced over, and then looked back at her nephew.

“That was Bitsy reminding me that I have a meeting. Check in again with me the day before the hearing. Meanwhile, I will keep you posted if I hear anything important. Oh, and make sure my grandson has his personal mirror on. Things are much too busy right now for me to visit, but I would like to talk to my love before the Hearing.”

“Sounds good, Auntie Dorea. Talk to you later.”

With that, the communications mirror rippled. When it settled, the mirror’s face once again reflected Sirius’ face and the office where he sat.

After dinner a few days later, Sirius claimed Harry from where he sat with the other teens.

“Harry and I need some family time,” he told them as he hoisted the younger Wizard to his feet.

Still cowed by Harry’s anger, Ron and Hermione offered no protest. Ginny and the twins, on the other hand, smirked.

“Don’t…”

“do anything…”

“we wouldn’t do,” Fred and George teased. “We’ll keep everyone occupied down here.”

They made their way up to the private wing, grabbing Remus and Tonks from their seats as they passed. The quartet of ‘Blacks’ were the only humans present with full, unrestricted access to Grimmauld Place. The rest of the Order, including the Weasley children, was limited to public areas and the guest wing. They couldn’t enter the private wing of the house without a Black escort. And Sirius and the others had no intention of providing one.

When they crossed the invisible boundary separating the house into parts, both Harry and Sirius’ shoulders relaxed. Even though many of the folks downstairs were friends, there was always that pressure of _performing_ a role. Now, though, they could just be themselves.

Moving down the now impeccably clean hallway, they walked through a doorway halfway down and entered the family parlour. A room filled with warm lights and cosy furnishings in a variety of colours and patterns, it was hardly recognizable as a part of Grimmauld’s environs. The comparison to the mouldering formality and excessive use of black found in the house’s public areas was quite striking.

Once inside the room, the quartet was joined by other Black Family members. Using the room’s lit fireplace, Severus and Andromeda Flooed in from their own homes. Then Kreacher arrived with a tray of tea and desert, setting it down on a cushioned ottoman, before joining the party. Finally, movement could be seen in the canvas that covered one wall of the room. Inside, the massive painting showed a mirror image to the room where it stood, including a door against one wall that matched the doorway through which Sirius and the others had just entered. The painted door opened, and Walburga Black herself walked onto the canvas. Sirius knew that if he were to check behind the curtains downstairs, the portrait there would be blank.

“Hey, mum,” he said with a grin, as Harry waved from his seat cuddled at Sirius’ side. She responded with a small smile and a nod.

Beside the boys, Remus had claimed a second couch. Crooking one finger, he beckoned his husband over to his side. In response, the other man bent down, his black locks swinging forward to cover their faces as the pair engaged in a brief kiss that turned into a proper snog.

Sirius, Tonks, and Harry, cheered and catcalled as Severus was pulled onto the sofa by his loving spouse. When the trio of troublemakers kept going after the _excitement_ ended, the married couple gave their typical reply. Severus rolled his eyes while Remus flashed Sirius the finger.

“You just saw him at the Order meeting last night, you big softy,” Sirius teased.

“Yeah, but I couldn’t exactly do that at the meeting, could I,” was Severus’ quick rejoinder.

“If you had you would have given many of those berks a heart attack,” Sirius chortled. It was one of the men’s favourite games, imagining responses to the family’s real relationships.

“Boys, settle down,” Walburga half-heartedly scolded from her place on the wall.

“Oh, just let them get it out of their system, Auntie,” Andromeda remarked. “You know we won’t be productive until they do.”

“Would Mistress Andi care for tea?” Kreacher asked, ignoring the antics going on around him.

“That would be lovely, thank you Kreacher.”

“Mistress Andi bes most welcome,” the little house-elf replied as he served her tea. “Poor Kreacher be stuck with only rowdy ones since Mistress Dorea left. We bes having fun, but Kreacher be missing polite Ladies.”

“Hey, what about me,” Tonks protested. “I’ve been staying here sometimes.”

“Yes, dear, but you’re one of the _rowdy ones_ , not the ladies,” her mother teased in response as she sipped her tea. “Perfect, as always, Kreacher.”

He preened in response.

Had anyone from downstairs walked into the room at that moment their eyes would have bulged.

Remus and Severus were curled together on a leather sofa, Remus’ arm wrapped around his husband’s shoulder while Severus leaned into the shorter man’s side. Beside them, Harry and Sirius were practically on top of each other as they shared an overstuffed chair covered in warm golden-brown fabric.

All four were laughing and joking, their eyes shining with joy and carrying no signs of hostility. Near them, Andromeda and Tonks sat in a pair of elegant yet comfortable armchairs sipping tea, while Kreacher perched on a footstool by Andromeda’s feet. His features were nearly unrecognizable; he’d dropped the glamour he was using downstairs.

On the wall opposite her son, the painting containing Walburga Black hung. Inside, she sat in a comfortable armchair with a teacup of her own. Like with Kreacher, she was nearly unrecognizable to those who had only seen her in the downstairs portrait hurling invectives.

“Shall we get to business,” Andromeda finally called, interrupting the laughing conversation happening to her left.

“Fine,” Harry grumbled, “let’s talk about how Dumbledore and Fudge will be fighting over me.”

Andromeda sighed as the rest of the group snickered.

“Not like that, you berks,” Harry said, shuddering. “That’s just gross.”

“But Harry, they _love_ you,” Tonks teased.

“Ugh, not going to go there,” he muttered. “Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes and _my boy’s_ have given me enough nightmares. One benefit to the events in June, have you noticed that he has been avoiding eye contact since then?”

“Are you certain?” Severus asked.

“Pretty sure, Uncle Sev,” Harry replied. “I usually have to be aggressive to avoid his passive Legilimency scans. Ever since I shoved those images from Voldemort’s rebirth into his head when I recounted the story after the Third Task I haven’t felt a peep.”

“Interesting,” Severus mused.

“Can we get back on topic,” Remus asked.

“Indeed. Harry, you know that the Hearing will probably be turned into a circus instead of the simple interview that it would be if you were any other young Wizard,” Andromeda said. “If, as we all expect, your Hearing has more than you and an Auror present, I want you to play the stubborn but naïve young Wizard. You should force whoever is interviewing you to let you tell the whole story of the event. Play up the fact that you and Dudley were both nearly Kissed and that you cast a corporeal Patronus just like you had to learn when the Dementors were at Hogwarts. Be respectful, and don’t argue if you can help it. If you feel truly threatened, I want you to demand your Magical Guardian’s presence. Aunt Dorea says that you can reveal her identity if you need.”

“Just remember, pup,” Sirius pulled Harry further into a half-hug. “All of the posturing will be targeted at others, you’re just the tool. Nothing that you hear will be about you.”

“Keep your Occlumency shields up at all times while you’re in the Ministry,” Severus added with a scowl. “There are far too many unscrupulous individuals with skills in mind magic. Some may be prowling those hallways and would love to get a peek into the head of the Boy-Who-Lived.”

“On to other matters,” Severus continued. “As far as I’ve heard in the Death Eater circles, the Dementor attack was not done on HIS orders or by any of the inner circle. Is anyone else having much luck?”

“If it’s someone in the DMLE they’re keeping it very quiet,” Tonks replied. “As far as I’m aware, the Aurors mostly seem to think Harry’s just a kid with rotten luck.”

“Whoever launched the attack is almost certainly an employee of the Ministry, there were too many of their resources at play for an unaffiliated Wizard or Witch to have done the deed, even with bribes,” Sirius added. “What? I did work for the Ministry for several years before Azkaban,” he reminded Tonks, who was looking at him in surprise.

“Sorry, Uncle Pads, I forgot,” she said, her hair turning red as she blushed.

“Understandable; you were just a sprog back then,” he teased.

“Right, so Ministry worker,” Remus continued the discussion, ignoring the byplay. “Do we think Fudge is in on it?”

“Aunt Dorea doesn’t think so,” Sirius replied. “That doesn’t mean he’s not taking advantage of the situation and not ‘looking a gift horse in the mouth’.”

Andromeda’s lips thinned as she agreed. “That doesn’t mean it’s not someone in his Administration.”

“True. Given how public he’s bound to make Harry’s Hearing, we should be able to push for an investigation. Whoever sent the Dementors could be charged with an attempted assassination of the Potter Heir.”

Tonks nodded. “Meanwhile, I’m guessing you want me to work with Mad-Eye and our other allies in the DMLE to proceed with an off-the-books investigation?”

“You’ve got that right,” Sirius agreed.

“Okay, then,” he continued, leaning back into his seat with a sigh. “I think we’ve covered all the important business. What say we do something fun to take our minds off things? Kreacher, I’ve heard rumours of a fabulous cake that you’ve been hiding in stasis since Harry’s birthday, what say we break it out?”

Kreacher agreed easily, and the next several hours were spent in laughter and love, as the gathered Family Black enjoyed dessert and played several rounds of Magical Charades.


	6. Letter Interlude: Furry Little Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius' first discovery of Remus' secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've done image versions of the letters, but just in case they're not readable on certain devices, I've also included the text below.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

October 15th 1970

My Dearest Mother,

Dumbledore is even more insane than we thought. One of my dorm mates is a Merlin-damned WEREWOLF!

I knew there was something fishy about him since the first night. After his absence from the dorm the last full moon night, I decided Were was a good theory. Then Sev and I tested him by ‘accidentally’ spilling a silver powder laced potion on him. Sure enough, he got a real nasty rash almost immediately. It made me feel bad, but I NEEDED to know.

Slughorn freaked out more than Lupin did at the rash. I think he knows the secret, probably the other teachers too.

To be fair, the boy (Lupin) is nothing like that lunatic Greyback. I’ve never seen him lose control, even near the full moon.

Sev and I are trying to figure out what he does on the actual moon nights. So far he’s either been ‘sick’ in the infirmary (September), or ‘visiting his sick mum’ (October).

None of the other students have figured it out yet, though some might be suspicious like we were. I did have an advantage in being his dorm-mate, though. Not even Sev had figured it out until I got him to help with my test in Potions.

By the way, did you know that Dumbledore got rid of the school’s Samhain ceremonies? We are having a ‘Halloween’ feast instead? The Gryffindor prefects said it’s to help the Muggle-raised students adjust by celebrating their versions of the holidays. 

I mean, I wasn’t too shocked when we skipped Mabon, but Samhain is so important to our Traditions! Of course, Yule and the rest will probably be the same. Good thing we at least get to go home for that…

Still, I will miss saying hi to Great Grandfather Sirius and the rest, and renewing the family bonds.

With blessings for this Hallowed Night,

Sirius Orion Black

_Toujours Pur_


	7. Trials and Tribulations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry heads to the Ministry of Magic, even as several powerful older men attempt to increase their holds on him and his fame.

The morning of the Hearing, Kreacher woke Harry earlier than was needed. The house-elf then insisted on helping him get ready for the day ahead even before Harry headed downstairs for breakfast.

Harry knew that Kreacher’s urge to ‘mother-hen’ was partially driven by Mrs. Weasley trying to usurp what the house-elf saw as his rightful responsibilities. Therefore, he allowed Kreacher’s fussing without complaint.

On the previous night, Tonks had helped him pick out an outfit for the Hearing while she was visiting the house. With her knowledge about both clothes and Ministry politics, she chose something that would portray the image that Harry and the Family intended.

The outfit was a combination of expensive Muggle semi-formal dress wear and Wizarding details. Harry put on a Muggle store-bought black collared shirt with thin strips of deep red and gold – symbolizing Harry’s Hogwarts House, sharply pressed khakis culled from his school uniform, and a pair of black dragonhide boots that he’d purchased at a store in the Alley.

To tame Harry’s flyaway tresses, Kreacher used a little house-elf magic and a bit of Sleakeasy’s Hair Tonic, a Potter family invention. The hair still maintained its characteristic gravity-defying shape but had some direction rather than pointing every which way.

The last thing Kreacher added was Harry’s school satchel, an over-the-shoulder brown dragonhide bag with a built-in expansion charm. Inside, sat all of the items that Harry would need for his excursion.

First, Kreacher had prepared a formal open robe to go on over Harry’s quasi-Muggle clothes. He would change once he was inside a Wizarding area – the Ministry Lobby.

Second, Kreacher had tucked the packet of files that Andromeda had prepared. The files covered various scenarios that the Family had hypothesized for that morning’s events. Files included a report on the Dementors from Harry’s hereditary Potter protection amulet, a statement from Remus that Harry had been capable of producing a corporeal Patronus – stag – since the end of his third year at Hogwarts, and a witness statement from Mrs. Figg about the incident as collected by Tonks. In addition, Harry had statements documenting his current Magical and Muggle Guardians and a copy of the guardianship agreement negotiated between Dorea, Remus and the Dursleys, along with several other potentially useful files.

Third, Kreacher had added provisions in case the Hearing ran long, snacks and water. He also included some fun reading material; a couple of Quidditch magazines and a Transfiguration paper that Harry was working his way through.

With all Kreacher’s fussing, by the time he was finally allowed to head downstairs, Harry more than ready to go. All he wanted to do was grab some breakfast and then head out the door.

“Good morning, everyone,” he said as he poked his head into the kitchen’s environs.

“Oh, Harry dear, I was just going to send Remus here up to wake you,” Mrs. Weasley commented as she turned from where she was cooking breakfast. When she got a proper look at him, she frowned for a moment before shaking her head.

“You look very nice, Harry,” she said reluctantly.

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley. Tonks helped me pick them out.”

Harry knew that the matronly witch was fond of the clumsy Metamorphmagus and didn’t see her as a threat to her mothering. Sure enough, the Weasley Matriarch’s face cleared with Harry’s comment.

_Thank Merlin that was enough to derail her frown_ , he thought.

“Well, then, since you’re already ready, you have plenty of time to eat before heading in with Arthur.” She nodded toward her husband, who was reading the Daily Prophet while drinking a cup of tea.

Remus, sitting at the other end of the table, cleared his throat.

“Oh yes, and Remus will be accompanying you in case Arthur has to leave before your Hearing starts.”

Sirius came stumbling into the room, still half-asleep, as Harry was finishing his breakfast. He gave Harry a quick hug, muttering that he would be there if he could but that it wouldn’t be safe for him even in Padfoot form. This came as no surprise to Harry, of course, but he knew that it would be a surprise to Dumbledore’s Gryffindor Golden Boy, so he followed Sirius’ play.

While he’d always liked Mrs. Weasley as the mother of several of his friends, he had to admit that her reactions to Sirius since he’d arrived home had been frustrating, to say the least.

_I’m not sure if it’s that she can’t get past the idea of him as a villain or if she sees him as a threat to her adoption of me,_ Harry thought, disgruntled.

He had plenty of mother figures in his life already; between his Grandmum Wally, his Gran Dorea and his Aunts Andi and Cissa, the Black Ladies had it covered. However, none of them was known to the Order, so he guessed that Mrs. Weasley had reason to think that she was needed.

To Harry’s confusion, they headed into the Ministry via Muggle transportation rather than using Grimmauld’s Floo or Apparition. When he asked Mr. Weasley why the man muttered something about making a better impression before his Hearing. Remus and Harry looked at each other in bafflement, and then shrugged in unison.

It seemed an odd idea, but whatever. 

Ironically, it ended up being fortunate that Remus was there. First, Mr. Weasley had little familiarity with Muggle London, and then he had never used the Muggle side Ministry entrance before.

Remus, on the other hand, had occasionally used that entrance. After all, he lived much of his life on the boundary between worlds. He led them confidently through the streets of London until they reached a dilapidated red telephone box out of sight of casual passers-by.

When Remus gestured at the telephone box with a stage magician’s flair, Harry chuckled. “What, is it bigger on the inside?” He asked brightly.

“Not quite,” Remus laughed in response as Mr. Weasley between them, confused.

“It’s a Muggle joke, Arthur,” Remus explained as all three Wizards crowded into the booth. Remus and Harry claimed visitor badges from the automated system while Mr. Weasley simply stated his position as an employee of the Ministry.

“Guess I need a shoe phone instead. I didn’t know you were an Agent, Professor,” Harry said with a laugh, elbowing Remus as they descended.

Muggle television was one of their favourite ways to pass the time on the weekends they had stayed at the Dursleys together during Harry’s childhood. Remus was a big fan of Doctor Who, while Harry was fascinated by Get Smart, the Avengers, and other secret agent programs. 

“Another Muggle joke?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll have to explain later,” Mr. Weasley said with a smile as he stepped out of the booth.

Now that they were in the Ministry lobby proper, Remus and Mr. Weasley transfigured their Muggle jackets into Wizarding robes or rather reversed the previous transfiguration that had turned them into Muggle gear. When Mr. Weasley went to do the same for Harry, he shook his head and pulled out the robe that Kreacher had packed.

The house-elf had charmed the robe such that when he unfolded it there were no wrinkles. Harry quickly threw it on, fastening the row of buttons along his torso. The robe was tight to his waist, and then flared out, allowing his Muggle trousers to show. It was one of Harry’s favourite casual robes, which made him feel more confident as he went to register his wand at the visitor’s desk.

Unlike Mr. Weasley, Remus and Harry were unsurprised when they checked in with Amelia Bones’ secretary and learned that the Hearing’s time and location had both been changed. The choice of Madame Bones as Harry’s interviewer had already seemed excessive for a simple underage magic charge, and the updated Hearing looked to be even worse.

“At least it’s not one of the Courtrooms,” Harry whispered to Remus as they followed Mr. Weasley back to the elevator. Instead, they were headed to the formal chambers where Wizengamut sessions were held. Thankfully, they had arrived in time to claim seats in the audience box.

Having been given a proper introduction to the structure of the Wizengamut by his Gran Dorea, Harry knew that missing a session where he was summoned would reflect very poorly on both him and his Guardian.

“Since you’re going to be stuck in the Wizengamut chambers until the first recess, do you mind if I go ahead and head to my office?” Mr. Weasley had asked Remus before they went in.

“Not a problem,” Remus had replied. “I was already planning to spend the day with Harry, so I’m not missing work or anything by being here.”

“Thanks. Stop by the office to give me the news before you leave the Ministry, would you?”

“Will do, see you later Arthur.”

“Right,” Remus said as he guided Harry up into the public seating area. “Let’s grab a couple of seats. I guess they’ll call you forward when it comes up on their agenda.”

When they were seated, Remus surreptitiously pointed out where Dumbledore and Mrs. Figg were seated nearby, hidden under a mild _notice-me-not_ charm.

A few minutes after they had claimed seats, the door to the antechamber on the other side of the room opened and the various Wizengamut members filed into the room. Dressed in their official robes, they formed a cohesive block as they sat in their assigned seats. Lord Tiberius Ogden was seated at the centre as current Chief Warlock; Dumbledore had recently been removed from that position. Near him sat friendly faces like Dorea and Neville’s Gran, Dame Augusta Longbottom. However, there were also hostile faces in the Wizengamut like – unfortunately – Lucius Malfoy and Theo’s father, Lord Nott.

Harry frowned as the toad-like Witch in pink robes seated beside Fudge glared at him.

“Uncle Moony, who’s that?” he asked, gesturing toward the woman.

The werewolf gave a sub-vocal growl. “That particularly nasty piece of work is Dolores Umbridge, Fudge’s Senior Undersecretary, and well-known anti-creature activist. She is passionately loyal to Fudge and has hated half-breeds since we were at Hogwarts together.”

Remus’ returning glare could melt ice as he continued. “She tried to have me arrested last year when it was made public that I was a werewolf who had been teaching at Hogwarts. Fortunately, it wasn’t technically illegal for me to be hired, merely frowned upon in certain circles. She’s also one of our suspects for the Dementor attacks.”

Before he could say more, Lord Ogden rang the brass bell that hung near his seat with a wave of his wand. This was the signal to the Magic of the chamber: the chamber doors closed with a thud as a pair of Aurors took up position in front of them.

A voice that appeared to come from the ceiling announced: “The August 9th, 1995 session of the Wizengamut is now in session, Chief Warlock Tiberius Ogden presiding.”

The bell rang again and Lord Ogden spoke.

“Greetings and welcome all.”

“Our first order of business for this meeting is as follows: the Hearing of a formal request for a change in the Guardianship of the minor, Harry Potter. The request was placed by Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge. Minister, you and your party may claim the prosecutors' table on the left.” Looking smug, Fudge made his way down to the Chamber floor, followed by Umbridge and, bearing a stack of documents, Percy Weasley.

“Now then, the current Guardians of the minor will take a seat at the table on the right. Are they present?”

Before anyone else could act, Dumbledore dropped his _notice-me-not_ and made his way to the indicated table. “I stand representative for the minor’s current Guardians,” he announced as he took a seat.

“He didn’t actually say he was my Guardian,” Harry whispered to Remus, his comment hidden by the sounds of the rest of the chamber being stirred up by the surprise of the Headmaster’s presence.

“Part of the Magic of the Chamber,” Remus replied. “Anyone on the floor cannot lie. They can obfuscate matters as much as they want, though.”

“That implies that Dumbledore is well aware that he’s not actually my Magical Guardian.”

“Not really a surprise.”

“I guess, so who do you think he believes is my Guardian?”

“Sirius, probably, since godparents are usually named first if no Will is on file.”

Their whispered conversation was disrupted by a call to order from the Chief Warlock.

“Now then, this court will hear evidence from both parties. Following that, the Minor Child will be brought forward to speak. He is in the audience, correct?”

Harry stood in place and bowed respectfully to the Wizard, who nodded his head in response.

“Thank you, young man. Subsequent to his testimony, both parties will be permitted to question the child. At that time, they will also be allowed to bring forth witnesses as needed to further argue their case.”

“As the party initiating the request, Minister Fudge, you have the floor.”

Concluding his statements, Lord Ogden leaned back in his chair.

“Thank you, Chief Warlock, Members of the Wizengamut. I come to you out of concern for events that occurred only a few short days ago.”

“I was called to the Improper Use of Magic Office, where I was informed that one of our most famous underage Wizards had not only violated the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, but also the Statute of Secrecy.”

“This incident comes on the heels of the tragedy that occurred during the final task of the Triwizard Tournament, in which a madman trying to return You-Know-Who to life subjected the poor boy to both Necromantic Ritual Magic and the Cruciatus.”

Gasps were heard in the chamber at this, despite the fact that the Daily Prophet had published an article following the event containing just this information.

Unlike Dumbledore, who had tried to push the Ministry to declare Voldemort back and return Wizarding England to a state of war, the Black family had provided a middle path that appealed to Fudge’s natural tendency towards cowardice.

Remus and Andromeda arranged for Harry to sit down with Amelia Bones, a long-time Black Family ally, and provide a formal Witness Statement for the event. In his statement, Harry had admitted that the monster that attacked him had claimed to be Voldemort and had a ring of masked helpers who he called by the names of the formerly accused Death Eaters. However, he very carefully avoided claiming that the monster’s claims were correct.

The ambiguity of the statement was used to sell Fudge on the idea that there was a group of evil Wizards trying to copy Voldemort without actually having his power. If Fudge would let the DMLE handle the thugs, probably nasty foreign Wizards wanting to hurt his constituents, he would improve his public opinion rating and look like a hero, all without significant risk on his part.

Given this appealing prospect, especially in comparison to Dumbledore’s scare tactics, Fudge agreed to the plan that Madame Bones proposed. However, disturbed by the evidence of Dumbledore’s threat to his power, the Minister did decide to pursue a smear campaign against the old manipulator. Lord Ogden’s new role had come about as a part of that campaign. Fudge was clearly using this Hearing as the next phase of that campaign.

“Now, we all know that the Boy-Who-Lived has proved to possess significant Magical strength. From his defeat of You-Know-Who as a baby to his recent success in the Triwizard Tournament while competing against older, more experienced competitors, young Harry Potter has clearly demonstrated a multitude of gifts.”

“So you have a powerful young Wizard who has recently undergone torture. One that often causes its survivors to experience uncontrolled Magical outbursts. And what does his Magical Guardian do with him? He sends him out into the Muggle world to stay with his mother’s Muggle relatives!”

Fudge gave a dramatic sigh, as the audience reacted with the horrified gasps that he clearly desired.

“According to anonymously provided evidence, this traumatized child, no doubt paranoid due to his experience, cast the Patronus Charm, a protective spell, in the presence of Muggles.”

He held up a stack of files that were evidence of the incident.

“Under normal circumstances, it would be expected for the Ministry to punish young Harry for such a violation of our most important Statute. However, in this case, I believe that the blame should rightly lay with his Guardians rather than the underage Wizard.”

Many of the Wizengamut, along with the majority of the public audience, were nodding their agreement as Fudge continued.

“Therefore, I would like to formally request a change in the Magical Guardianship of the young Heir, Harry Potter. Ministry records,” here Fudge held up another parchment handed to him from Percy Weasley’s stack, “state that Magical Guardianship of Harry Potter has been held since 1981 by none other than Albus Dumbledore.”

Whispers ran through the chamber as the audience processed the bombshells that Fudge had dropped with his little speech. After a few minutes, the Chief Warlock rang the bell to call the whispering audience back to order.

“Thank you, Minister Fudge. Headmaster Dumbledore, your response, if you please.”

As Fudge had before him, Albus Dumbledore stood to give his address.

“My dear ladies and gentlemen, when I learned that Minister Fudge had placed his request I was stunned.”

“After the tragedy over a decade ago, the Wizengamut of the time agreed that I take Magical Guardianship of young Mr. Potter. While Voldemort,” gasps echoed through the room as the man had intended, “had been vanquished, there was still a threat to the poor child from the villain’s followers. The attack on the Longbottoms was clear evidence that our Saviour child needed powerful protection. I agreed to take the burden by hiding baby Harry with his Muggle relatives and holding his location secret.”

“Ever since then, he has dwelt there safely, thanks to my efforts.”

At Harry’s side, Remus snorted, exchanged a glance with his beloved nephew, and whispered, “more like despite his efforts.”

The boy nodded his agreement and then turned back to Dumbledore, who was still speaking.

“However, the recent return of Voldemort.”

Harry pushed up his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation even as gasps and whispers once again rang out.

“For I am certain that it was in fact the man himself who returned to life in June, not a pretender as your Minister would have you believe. He is once again a threat to our world, and most especially to young Harry as the cause of his previous downfall. Despite my best efforts, in recent years the Ministry’s interest in Mr. Potter has exposed the location of the boy’s home to many, including those who would do him harm.”

“Unfortunately, a few nights ago an unscrupulous villain, having discovered Mr. Potter’s location, attacked him with a pair of Dementors with orders to administer the Kiss. Fortunately, as Minister Fudge mentioned, young Mr. Potter is already a powerful Wizard and has mastered the Patronus Charm.”

“As he was in clear danger of losing his soul, Mr. Potter did not violate the law in casting Underage Magic. Furthermore, young Mr. Potter did not even violate the **Statute of Secrecy** : the Muggle witnesses to the charm were not actually Muggles. Rather, both witnesses are registered squibs. One was Mr. Potter’s underage cousin and the other a squib who lives in the neighbourhood. She is present and willing to testify as a witness to the incident if the Wizengamut so desires.”

“Following the incident, Mr. Potter was moved to a more secure Magical location to protect him from any further attacks. There I intend for him to stay until he leaves for his next year at Hogwarts. That is unless this August Body decides that self-defence is sufficient reason for the destruction of a child’s wand and expulsion from school as the Ministry’s **Improper Use of Magic Office** attempted to claim prior to this Hearing.”

Unsurprisingly, this announcement set off another round of whispering. This time the tone was hostile toward the Ministry, as such an extreme reaction was horrifying to the Wizards and Witches in the audience. 

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. He’d gotten his desired reactions.

“I believe that Minister Fudge has exceeded his authority in requesting a change in the Magical Guardianship of Harry Potter. Further, as Mr. Potter’s Ministry named Magical Guardian I ask that the Wizengamut formally dismiss all records of violation due to the recent incident from Mr. Potter’s file.”

With that, the Headmaster retook his seat as the Wizengamut members and those in the audience discussed what they had just been told. To Harry’s mild surprise, Dumbledore’s gaze never turned to him. Even as the Chief Warlock waited for his fellow Wizengamut members to finish talking so that they could proceed to the next stage of the Hearing, Dumbledore continued to ignore Harry’s existence.

The conversations that Harry and Remus, sitting in the audience, could hear around them were mostly in Dumbledore’s favour. People seemed to believe that the Ministry, and Fudge, in particular, had overstepped their authority. However, most in the audience did not want to believe Dumbledore’s words that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back. Meanwhile, many in the chamber had taken to staring at Harry as they spoke, much to his annoyance.

Eventually, though, the Chief Warlock rang the bell once more. This was the signal that the next stage of the Hearing had begun.

Harry squeezed Remus’ hand once for support, then made his way down to the centre of the Chamber. There he stood facing the Wizengamut with both the previous presenters seated behind him.

Unlike Fudge and Dumbledore, Harry did his best to portray a child without an agenda. He spoke briefly, first commenting that he had already given a statement about June and would rather not talk about it again. Then he explained the more recent incident.

He was taking a walk near his aunt and uncle’s home with his cousin when he began to feel the effects of the Dementors. He admitted that he had been carrying his wand despite the **Decree** because it helped him cope with fear from the incident in June. He assured the Chamber that he wasn’t in the practice of casting spells in his Muggle neighbourhood.

Harry then went on to explain that he knew what Dementor effects felt like since they’d attacked him on several occasions during his third year at Hogwarts. He further described how he’d learned the Patronus Charm in response to those attacks, and pulled out Remus’ written statement on his ability to cast the charm and produce a fully corporeal Patronus.

From there, Harry then went on to state that he waited to cast the Patronus until the Dementors had come within a few meters of him and appeared about to Kiss both him and his cousin. He explained that they were in an alley during the incident and that he had believed himself alone with Dudley at the time. He only saw Mrs. Figg, the squib, after the fact, when she helped them get home.

Finally, he mentioned how scared he had been when he received the first letter from the **Improper Use of Magic Office** saying that Wizards would be showing up to destroy his wand. He pulled the parchment out to offer as evidence, even as he heard huffs from the Ministry table behind him.

Neither Fudge nor Dumbledore asked Harry any follow up questions. He figured that it was because they didn’t want him to mess up their schemes any further. In fact, the rest of the Hearing ended up being rather anti-climactic.

The Wizengamut voted overwhelmingly to deny the Minister’s petition and clear Harry’s record. They did take the Headmaster to task for fear-mongering despite Harry’s ambiguous statement in June. They also told the Minister to handle the Witch in the **Improper Use of Magic Office** , who had clearly overstepped her authority.

Following those announcements, the Chief Warlock rang the bell a final time, announcing a brief recess before moving on to other business. The Chamber doors opened, permitting those who desired to exit.

Harry, who had reclaimed his seat with Remus following his testimony, knew that their part in the session was done. He snuck a quick wave at Dorea, who winked in response before Harry and Remus got up to head out. Dumbledore had already disappeared from the Chamber, but Minister Fudge intercepted them just before they reached the exit.

“Harry, I just wanted to apologize for the scare that you received with that letter. I was not informed of the exact contents of the correspondence that you received from the Ministry prior to this Hearing. You can rest assured that it will never happen again.”

As Fudge spoke, Harry was distracted by the look of hatred directed at him by Umbridge. The Witch had followed her boss in his interception, but she clearly didn’t share his opinion.

“Thank you for your kind words, Minister. I have never felt threatened by you personally and appreciate your words of support regarding my actions, even if they ended up being unnecessary in this case.”

Harry came close and added in a whisper. “Between you and me, I wish your request had worked and that the Headmaster wasn’t my Magical Guardian. Unfortunately, you just didn’t have the right leverage to make the request stick.”

Fudge nodded conspiratorially, as Remus looked on, bemused. Harry waved over at his Uncle Moony, and then added, “I don’t know if you know Minister, but Mr. Lupin here was one of my parents’ best friends and could have been my Magical Guardian if the Headmaster hadn’t taken control of my life. I found out once I got to Hogwarts that there are a bunch of people who were closer to my parents than the Headmaster and would have been my Guardians if he hadn’t convinced the Wizengamut back then to give him control.”

Having made his point, Harry leaned back against Remus and spoke again, this time in a louder voice so that the people standing around them could all hear. “We’d better get out of here before we’re stuck sitting through more of the session. Thank you, Minister Fudge, for your concern.”

Shaking his head in bemusement at what seemed to him a transparent move, the Minister turned and headed back to his usual observer’s seat for the Wizengamut sessions with his entourage trailing behind him.

“It’s done,” Harry commented to Remus as they left the room. “Now I’m exhausted. Take me home, Uncle Remy?”

“Of course, cub.”


	8. Letter Interlude: Estrangement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius and Walburga reinforce their supposed estrangement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've done image versions of the letters, but just in case they're not readable on certain devices, I've also included the text below.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

March 4, 1971

Dear Mum,

People are starting to doubt us. We need another Howler, or something .

And I have a plan.

I told you that Jamie’s a prankster, like me and Reg, right? Well, we’ve been having some fun around the castle. Nothing serious, just livening the mood around here a bit. You know how much fun we have at home during ‘Prank Wars’.

We’ve been talking about doing a BIG prank, taking out a massive group of students. I think if we succeed and are caught, you’ll get called by the Headmaster. Even if you don’t, we plan to target Slytherin House, and I’m going to focus on our cousins, especially Bella. I know she’ll write you to complain. Then you can throw a big public fuss, and…

By the way, Jamie’s asked me to spend the ‘Easter’ break with his family. I want to go. I think it would help make people believe our ‘trick’. I’ll see everyone at the Imholc ceremony anyways.

Expect to hear from Hogwarts soon,

Siri


	9. Country-cide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius and company pay a visit to Little Hangleton.

After all of the tension leading up to Harry’s Hearing, Sirius was glad to see his friend and godson return safely from their visit to the Ministry of Magic.

“And?” He asked as they entered through the front door, Molly and the other teens crowded behind him.

“Well…” Remus began, “Minister Fudge decided that the incident justified a formal Hearing in front of the full Wizengamut during their regular session. He decided to use the incident as an excuse to remove Headmaster Dumbledore’s Guardianship of Harry, here.”

He ruffled Harry’s hair, even as the teen ducked to get out from under his hand.

“Merlin’s pants Harry, my lad, you’re one popular guy,” Sirius teased. Reaching out, he claimed his godson from Remus’ side.

“Knock it off, Paddy,” Harry whined as if upset by Sirius’ actions, though his willingness to embrace his godfather said otherwise.

“Right,” Remus continued, “well, we managed to get Harry cleared of all charges and derailed Fudge’s petition.”

At that, the entire group cheered and the twins and Ginny claimed Harry to dance in a circle, singing, “HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF!”

Raising his voice to be heard above the ruckus, Remus wrapped his tale up. “The Ministry was scolded for overstepping with Harry’s letter. Plus, Dumbledore used the public audience to announce Voldemort’s return, which the Wizengamut did not appreciate.”

“Of course he did,” Sirius said, as he and Remus exchanged speaking glances.

“Oh, I’m so happy for you, Harry. Now, I’ve prepared lunch in the kitchen, off you go,” Molly said as she hustled the group away from the front hallway.

Behind her back, Remus passed Sirius a sealed note. Sirius assumed that his friend had picked it up during his time at the Ministry.

A single word was scrawled across the front of the communiqué. ‘Mutt’, it read, in sharp, decisive strokes.

Sirius grinned as he tucked it into his pocket. He knew that writing. The missive was from his snarky childhood friend.

As the impromptu celebration in the kitchen came to a close, Sirius excused himself from the group. Then, he returned to his study upstairs. Once behind closed doors, he pulled out the letter that Remus had passed him.

Cracking the seal, he was unsurprised to find that it was indeed from Severus.

‘ _Mutt,_ ’ the letter read.

‘ _The tricky one has decamped from his childhood abode and is in residence at the home of false surety. To my knowledge, no surprises would await seekers of information at his previous residence._ ’

‘ _Take care to keep things shaken, not stirred._ ’

‘ _Paws_ ’

“Classic Sev,” Sirius muttered as he chuckled at the letter’s cryptic statements. Ever the strategist, Severus would never risk sending non-encoded messages even when he knew that the message route was secure.

“Right, so Tommy-boy has left his old man’s estate and moved into Malfoy Manor. That means we can move forward in our investigation of Little Hangleton. Sev doesn’t think that he left Wards or cursed traps behind, but better safe than sorry.”

Sirius grinned at the last phrase. Ian Fleming’s James Bond books had been favourites for the pair of young Wizards before Hogwarts. Many of their early plans had been inspired by stories of the Muggle spy. They’d convinced Kreacher to help them figure out how to make martini’s – virgin, of course – and transfigure their clothes into approximations of Muggle tuxedos whenever Cousin Eileen brought Sev over to visit.

“Who’d have thought that our lives would end up looking far too much like one of our adventures,” Sirius mused as he began planning the Little Hangleton trip.

A few days later, Sirius and his team apparated into the Little Hangleton graveyard where Tom Riddle Sr. was buried. This was also the site where the Dark Lord Voldemort had been reborn back in June. Sirius had been present, hidden under the Peverell invisibility cloak, during the confrontation between Harry and his monstrous nemesis. He had arrived shortly after the monstrous homunculus had emerged from his cauldron.

As a precaution, Harry had been wearing a tracker during the Triwizard tasks, with Sirius ready to race to his aid if needed. This was especially true for the Third Task, as Barty had obliquely warned the Family that something was going down. He had been unable to provide specifics due to a Vow that he’d had to give to the Dark Lord’s homunculus when he had rejoined the man’s service. Still, he had done his best despite the limitations, so the Family was prepared.

It had been absolute agony watching the monster torturing Harry, but the circle of Death Eaters around them had made it impossible for Sirius to intervene without getting them both killed. He did take advantage of the confusion following the _Priori Incantatem_ incident to help Harry get to the cup portkey without revealing his presence. The reminder that his precious pup had experienced the Cruciatus and been forced to participate in a Necromantic Ritual, especially at such a young age, still made Sirius tremble with fury.

Sirius shook his head to return himself to the present, then looked around to make sure everyone had made it okay. After confirming that fact, he announced. “Spread out, people. Take readings of all the trace evidence that we can find. Nym, try to pick up all the Magical Signatures you can. We’ll match them to the Signatures we have on record for known Death Eaters. You should expect to find mine and Harry’s and that poor Diggory boy’s, everyone else is a hostile.”

“Yes sir, boss-man, sir,” Tonks said with a sarcastic wave. “And don’t call me Nym!”

Sirius’ team, which included Tonks as well as Bill Weasley, spread out. Sirius took a moment to complete the exhumation of Tom Sr. before destroying the last remnants of the man. He wanted to make sure that the Dark Lord’s ritual couldn’t be used a second time. While the Family believed that the ritual required Tommy-boy to be at least a wraith, he didn’t want to risk the chance that they were wrong. When they finally took him out this time, it must be for good.

There were no significant surprises in the graveyard. One of the Dark Lord’s followers had clearly already done some cleanup. At the very least, they’d wanted to keep the Muggles from noticing that they’d been there. The Little Hangleton graveyard looked like a normal, if creepy, Muggle site to the naked eye.

“Come on,” Sirius said as they wrapped up. “We’ll walk the village next, see what can be sensed, and get the local gossip.” Bracing himself, he transformed into Padfoot. He had been in the Muggle news as an escaped felon a while back and didn’t want to risk the attention that someone recognizing him would draw. To be sure, the picture that they had used on the Muggle television was over a decade old. It was his arresting photograph, after all. Still, better to avoid any chance of trouble. 

Outside the graveyard, the town of Little Hangleton was quaint and rather picturesque, with narrow cobblestone streets and houses and small shops all crammed together over a small area. Beyond them were the fields and copses that composed the Estate once held by the Riddle Family.

The villagers, mostly elderly folk whose children had moved to the cities in search of jobs, were out on all manner of business.

Since it was time for lunch, the team made their way to the local pub to grab a meal. Acting with exaggerated care, Tonks used a transfigured collar and rope to secure Padfoot to a bench outside while the rest headed in to eat.

“I’ll ask them for a bowl of water and some stew or something,” she whispered as she secured him. Then in a louder voice, she added. “Stay there and be a good dog, Padfoot.”

Rolling his eyes, the animagus curled up to look less intimidating. He knew that he would hear the local gossip better from his current location than the others would inside.

“It’s a real shame what happened with old Frank, it is,” muttered one of the old men seated near Padfoot. He held a pipe in one hand and a pint in the other. Sirius assumed that he was resuming a conversation that had been interrupted by their arrival.

“Indeed, it is,” his companion agreed, taking a puff on his own pipe. “He’s been missing nigh on a year now. And the old manor house is worse than ever.”

“Good thing the old place is haunted or the young troublemakers might have done worse than smash in a few windows,” the first man scoffed. Then he quaffed a large gulp of his ale. “I heard that there have been strange noises and lights up there in recent times.”

“Aye, some say old Frank died up there, but the ghosts hid his body so that he’d join them.”

“Frank would be pleased at that, getting a chance to confront the Masters and Mistress whose deaths were blamed on him.”

“Aye, that he would.”

Both men sat back with a sigh, content in their leisure.

As promised, Tonks brought out lunch for Padfoot a few minutes after they arrived. The offering prompted a round of unsolicited comments from the old men, arguing about pets and new-fangled notions of care.

Sensing that he wouldn’t be getting useful information out of the group any time soon, Padfoot turned his attention to the food. Despite it having been two years since he left Azkaban, Sirius still treated fresh food as a luxury that should be relished. While his family had been kind enough to smuggle food into the prison, it had hardly been fresh. Instead, it was mostly long-lasting goods meant to supplement the prisoner diet of unflavoured porridge.

Indeed, Sirius’ family had worked all kinds of magic to make Azkaban a little less scarring for their imprisoned Heir. Despite their care, over a decade locked in a prison cell had left both physical and mental scars. Sirius shuddered to think what his condition might have been without that support.

His moment of introspection was broken when Sirius’ team emerged from the pub. They were chatting pleasantly with a plump matron of late-middle age. When they reached Padfoot, Tonks collected his ‘leash’, and then the entire group followed the matron out and down the road to the edge of town. When they reached the edge of the village, she gestured towards a turn-off within an easy walk of their current position. It was a poorly maintained drive, one that curved until it disappeared from sight into the woods. Beyond the trees, they caught a glimpse of the roof of a large house.

“That there is the drive up to the old Manor. There’s no one mindin’ it at the moment, so yer free to go investigatin’ without trouble.”

“Our thanks for your help, Madame,” Bill said with a bow and a smile. With his time at Gringotts, he had mastered the skill of being polite and charming towards those considerably older than himself.

Flustered by the attentions of a handsome young man, their guide blushed. Then she nodded in return, turned around, and headed back to the pub.

Moving in the opposite direction, the team made for the indicated turn off. As they walked, they filled Sirius in on what he had missed in sitting outside. The pub’s bartender had told them the tale of the Riddles. According to the local legend, the parents and son were murdered by their neighbour back in the late 1940s. He was a crazy tramp who lived in a shack nearby, part of an entire family of weird folks. It was rumoured, the barkeep had added, that the murders were revenge for the despoiling of his sister.

Of course, some people claimed that the murderer had an accomplice in his misdeeds. They pointed the finger at the Riddles’ groundskeeper, Frank Bryce.

Then there was the mystery of the Riddles’ last visitor before their deaths. According to one of the older patrons, right before the murders, a handsome young man had come to the village. He had been the spitting image of the younger Mr. Riddle at the same age. Most of the locals thought that he must have been the result of an affair, a bastard son. It had been the biggest gossip in town before the murders happened to change that.

“That was probably old Tom discovering his heritage.” The comment came from Lucretia Black Prewett, the oldest member of their team, and carried a tone of absolute disdain. Lucretia was Sirius’ mum’s first cousin and Bill’s great-aunt on his mother’s side. An Unspeakable by profession, her expertise was in magical trace evidence. She was of the same generation as Tom Riddle and Walburga Black, although she was several years younger than the other two. Thus, she hadn’t known Riddle by anything other than reputation when the wizard had been a student at Hogwarts.

Instead, Lucretia’s dislike of the man came from his later actions, especially the transparent misogyny present in his rhetoric. The woman granted a position of any significance in his faction was Sirius’ cousin Bella, and that was only because she was rabid in her devotion to the man and his cause.

Sirius knew that much like his ‘nemesis’, Dumbledore, Tom Riddle was dismissive of any Magics that he could not claim. Because of this fact, both men ignored Goddess-borne Magics, like those granted to the Black Matriarchs. While the Black Family had used this prejudice in dealing with the ‘Dark Lord’ and ‘Light Lord’, it was still a topic guaranteed to set off any of the Family’s numerous powerful women. 

As they had passed out of sight of the village, Sirius was able to resume his human form. He asked, “Do we think that Tommy-boy was the actual murderer?”

“Quite possibly, yes,” Lucretia nodded. “This may have been when he created one of the missing Horcruxes.”

Ever since Regulus Black had learned that the Dark Lord had made Horcruxes back in 1979, the Family Black had been on the hunt for the cursed things. So far, they had managed to find five. Then using careful measurements and complex Arithmantic calculations, they had determined that there were two more yet to find. All the rest had been destroyed, thanks to the incident with Harry, Slytherin’s Basilisk, and the Diary Horcrux two years before.

“Keep your senses on alert for a Horcrux-type Soul Magic signature then, everyone. Riddle may have hidden it nearby, but if he did he likely set traps as he did with the Locket.”

They had nearly reached the gate to the Riddle Manor when the entire team perked up like bloodhounds with a scent. There was a Dark miasma nearby. It hung over the rotting shack that stood on the side of the road.

“Whew, that feels nasty,” Tonks commented as she waved her hand in front of her nose. “Smells like something rotten, too.”

They approached the decrepit building cautiously, wary of traps.

Sirius transfigured a stone into a mouse before sending it in as a trigger. Sure enough, as the mouse approached the steps leading up to the front door, an adder slithered out from under the house’s foundation to bite.

“One down,” Tonks joked as she immobilized the adder and placed it in a transfigured box.

In response, Bill cast a series of detection charms at the shack’s exterior, particularly the front door. “Looks like there are a couple of nasty curses on the door,” he commented. “The knob will bite and inject venom like a snake, while anyone who crosses the threshold will get hit with a confounding curse.”

“There must be something further inside to complement the confounding curse,” Lucretia added as she watched the younger members of the team do their work.

“Window, then?” Sirius asked. “Or should we just create our own entrance?”

“I vote for the latter,” Bill replied. “I know a directed deconstruction curse that should let us open an entrance without completely destabilizing the structure. Learnt it at Gringotts, it’s quite useful my line of work.”

Sirius nodded, and Bill went to work, removing a huge chunk of wall and setting it aside with a powerful display of levitation. The interior was just as bad as the outside, practically falling down around them as the quartet headed inside. Once there, the team stayed close together to avoid triggering more traps.

“I sense Soul Magic, there under the hearth,” Lucretia commented as she pointed toward the fireplace that sat along one wall of the shack’s main room.

“I think this is an old Wizarding residence,” Tonks added as she Magically levered out the flagstone that sat over the place Lucretia indicated. “This fireplace shows signs of Floo usage, and there are very faint traces of Household Magic.”

“Maybe You-Know-Who’s mother’s family,” Bill suggested. Knowing that the Taboo on the name Voldemort could be re-activated, the Black family and their allies still used the old protective moniker for the bastard. This was in direct contrast to Dumbledore and his Order, who were defiant in their usage of the forbidden title.

“Perhaps,” Sirius agreed. “I think Father determined that she must have been a Gaunt, given Tommy-boy’s claim of being Slytherin’s Heir. They had the most direct heritage line to that old bastard.”

They peered down at what was hidden beneath the flagstone. Inside the crevice was a small box, grimy with soot. Sirius gently levitated the box out and then nudged it open with his wand. Inside, the box was lined in rotting velvet and contained a rather ugly ring with a large onyx stone set in its side. 

There was a strong compulsion urging them to put the ring on, but all four managed to hold it off with sheer force of will. Taking over from Sirius, Lucretia dropped it into a silk-lined pouch that she had brought along for just such a potentiality.

“I bet that was tied to the confounding curse,” Tonks commented as the compulsion lessened considerably. “If I were still disoriented by another curse I wouldn’t have been able to resist the compulsion, I think. The rest of the team nodded in agreement.

“There’s probably something nasty waiting for whoever puts the ring on,” Sirius added. Then he turned to Lucretia and asked. “So, what do you think, Horcrux?”

She nodded in agreement. “Horcrux.”

“Same procedure as the rest?”

“Indeed. I’ll have the Goblins start working on making a decoy once we’ve removed the curse.”

“Right then, back to our investigation.”

The team headed out, returning to the road. As they departed, Bill set an illusion in place to hide the massive hole that they’d put in the shack’s wall. Once the ring was destroyed, they’d send a team back to put a decoy ring in its place. A proper repair would be done at that point.

Sirius whistled as he resumed walking down the road to Riddle Manor. _One more Horcrux done._


	10. Letter Interlude: Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James Potter figures out Remus' secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As before, I've done image versions of the letters, but just in case they're not readable on certain devices, I've also included the text below.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

May 11th, 1971

Dear Mum,

I love Jamie to death, but sometimes he can be so CLUELESS!

Today was SUCH a prime example.

Lupin, our werewolf dorm mate, left last night for his monthly isolation with his usual ‘sick’ excuse. After he left, Jamie got a funny look on his face. He then dashed for his things, re-reading the section in our DADA book on werewolves, then grabbing the calendar and his journal to check full moon nights. You see where this is going, right?

Finally, he sat back; let out his breath in a whoosh, and then he turned to me and said, ‘I think Remus is a werewolf’’.

I mean, it’s not like I didn’t already figure it out, but come on….

Good thing our other dorm mate, Pettigrew, was still down in the common room. It was just the two of us in the dorm. He would have freaked out worse than James did.

He started pacing, saying we needed to tell one of the adults. I had to point out that there was no way they didn’t know. This calmed him down, ‘specially after I reminded Jamie we’d been living with Remus for almost a year without ‘noticing’. Then I pulled the friend card and reminded Jamie about all the study help. That was enough to calm him down. He agreed to keep it a secret.

I thought that would be the end of it, but no, the next morning Jamie’s noble streak kicked in again.

We ran into Lupin after breakfast. Jamie grabbed him and hauled him into an empty classroom. Of course, like the good friend I am, I followed to make sure that things didn’t get out of hand.

Jamie looked at Lupin with those big, hazel eyes of his and stated, ‘we know where you were last night’.

If I didn’t know how big the trouble Lupin could be in if we told, the panic on his face would have been hilarious. Of course, Jamie ‘reassured’ him by saying we didn’t care about him being a ‘Dark Creature’. That he was ‘still our friend’ and ‘we’re not going to tell anyone’.

So… Yeah…

Now I just have to keep Jamie from spilling the beans to Pettigrew and survive finals. This will be fun (not),

Sirius


	11. Home Sweet Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A train ride carries Harry back to Hogwarts

Sitting back against the cushioned wall of one of the train compartment’s benches, Harry let out a sigh of relief. The weeks since the Hearing at the Ministry had been a seesaw of joy and frustration.

The frustration came from Harry’s inability to cope with what had happened in June. The return home to Grimmauld Place hadn’t been enough to make the nightmares stop. Instead, he infrequently woke screaming at all hours of the night. Depending on the details of a particular dream, morning would then find him either sharing a bed with Paddy/Uncle Remy or curled up on a lounge in the family parlour, having passed out after a hot drink with a hovering Kreacher. 

Then there was the ongoing tension with his ‘best friends’: Ron and Hermione. While the pair had apologized – and been verbally forgiven – for their poor communication efforts, a certain distance still remained. Their staunch conviction that Dumbledore’s restrictions were reasonable put a damper on things. To make matters worse, Harry had learned from Uncle Remy that the pair were actively ‘reporting’ to the Hogwarts Headmaster.

Of course, the debacle with the prefect badges hadn’t helped. Harry still couldn’t believe that Ron was jealous over Hermione’s belief that he had gotten the position, but whatever. _It’s not like I ever wanted to be a prefect,_ he thought, disgruntled. _The old man uses those badges as a bribe, and the heads of the houses seem to do the same._

Harry sneered when he thought of those prefects that he’d met since starting Hogwarts. Far too many of them were either obvious brown-nosers or the children of influential parents.

Don’t get Harry wrong, Cedric had been a great guy. He had also made a fine prefect for Hufflepuff. However, his father worked for the Ministry in the **Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures**. Amos Diggory was one of the few Wizards who would be both aware of Remus’ status as a werewolf and his appointment to the DADA position at Hogwarts. Was it just a coincidence that Remus got the job the same year that Cedric got the badge? Harry didn’t think so.

Still, between the times of struggle, there had been days when the good far outweighed the bad.

For example, Sirius, Remus, and Tonks had chaperoned regular excursions out into the Muggle world – at least once a week. These outings were, naturally, behind Dumbledore’s back, not that Harry cared.

Batches of Polyjuice – prepared by Severus - were dosed with hair from random Muggles. The potion provided those going out with a wickedly effective disguise. Extra Polyjuice was carried by the adventurers in case a top-up was needed, poured inside of charmed ‘water’ bottles for easy distribution. Despite Polyjuice’s horrendous flavour, everyone was more than willing to suffer for the sake of freedom. 

Harry, his friends, and their chaperones had made several trips to nearby movie theatres, parks, and – on one especially memorable Saturday – spent the day at the local Muggle Amusement Park.

Of course, Mrs. Weasley had yelled at them for recklessness on their return from each trip, but nobody really cared. Even her husband encouraged the outings, recognizing that the youngsters – and Sirius – needed to spend some time outside of the mouldering house.

Fun times were found inside as well, despite Molly Weasley’s concerted effort to ‘clean up’ Grimmauld Place using her children and the other teens as her labour force. Within a day of Harry’s arrival in the house, a three-way, all-holds-barred ‘Prank-War’ had been launched.

The teams were the Twins, the Olds (aka Paddy and Remy), and the Babies (aka Harry and Ginny with secret support from Kreacher). Most of the public areas of the house were fair game in the War. Bedrooms and bathrooms, on the other hand, were declared off-limits. After all, if half of the fighters couldn’t access the family wing then Harry, Paddy, and Remy had an unfair advantage otherwise. 

People ended up in strange colours, glitter bombs exploded at odd times, and Grandma Wally had far too much fun screaming when the pranks disturbed her downstairs portrait. Sometimes Siri and Harry would swing by the family room frame just to tell her their favourite insults so she could reuse them.

The culmination of the War came the day before the students left for Hogwarts. As a finale and ultimate reveal of the Marauders, the Olds and the Babies had teamed up to take down the Twins. Taking advantage of Gred and Forge’s habit of Apparating everywhere, Sirius had set a trap in the kitchen after breakfast. The next time someone tried to depart from the kitchen via Apparition, the trap would redirect him or her to the public ballroom on the main floor of the house.

Fred and George triggered the trap right after lunch. They had been teasing Ron about putting something in his trunk before he made it up to the room from the kitchen, and Disapparated, intending to pop up to their temporary bedroom. Instead, Sirius’ trap dropped them flat on their faces on the ballroom floor, where Kreacher petrified them with a silent snap.

After a brief wait – no doubt agonizing for the petrified pair – Sirius, Remus, Harry, and Ginny sauntered through the doors, having taken the slow way up from the kitchen.

“Hello, boys,” Remus teased, leaning down to look at them. “It looks like you’re a bit stuck, there.”

“Come on, guys,” Fred begged, trying unsuccessfully to cast a wandless Finite, “Merlin knows you got us, fair and square. Now let us go!”

Harry and Siri exchanged a smirk.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Sirius said, shaking the index finger of his left hand while he twirled the wand in his right. “You don’t think we’d make it that easy, do you?”

The younger teens started giggling.

“Right, tasks everyone. Moony, you’ve got hair and general colour changes. I’ll handle the body parts. Harry and Ginny, you’re on the backdrop.”

Without further ado, the quartet went to work on their canvases. Using a simple and temporary partial Transfiguration, Sirius gave the Twins lion’s tails, paws, noses, and ears.

At the same time, Remus modified the boys’ red hair, making it larger and fuller and extending it along their jawlines until it framed their faces like a lion’s mane. Then he cast a simple colour-changing charm on their clothes, turning them red to match the manes.

Over on the wall, out of the twins’ line of sight, Harry and Ginny covered the wall with a pair of large shields shaped and painted like Gryffindor’s badge. Each shield mural was large enough to frame a human body. At the top, the pair hung a banner proclaiming the following:

**_“The Marauders: Moony, Padfoot, Prongslet, and Company present – A Display of Gryffindor Pride!”_ **

As Sirius and Remus levitated their still-frozen victims, turning them to face the wall, all four co-conspirators could see the moment that the banner was read. Both twins inhaled in shock. Before they could say anything, they were hit with a _silencio_ – and thus kept silent. The two adult Wizards then repositioned the Twins’ petrified bodies in an excellent mimicry of the lion rampant pose from the Gryffindor badge.

They stood on a small platform in front of the shield mural facing each other. Each twin had their knees bent and one leg posed well behind the other, while their arms were stretched out directly in front of their bodies at different heights with paws extended as if about to climb a vertical surface or claw the person in front of them. Their Transfigured tails were curled up behind them with the tip pointing towards the back of their heads, while their mouths were wide open as if snarling.

Given their position facing each other, Gred and Forge could see each other’s new appearance. Unable to express their shock at the big reveal, they could not even complain or otherwise comment. This just made things worse!

Recognizing the look on her brothers’ faces, Ginny doubled up in laughter. Her giggles set off a chain reaction that had all four conspirators rolling on the floor in hysterics. 

“We’ve been wa-aiting to tell you forever!” Harry said between gasping breaths. “I wanted to do it at just the right time.”

“Yeah, little Harrikins here had such a hard time not slipping up and calling for Uncle Moony or Padfoot in front of you the past few weeks,” Sirius chuckled, grabbing his still giggling godson.

“I’ve known since last year,” Ginny said as she leaned against Remus side catching her breath. “We nearly told you so many times, but it was never the right moment.”

Eventually, the quartet of tricksters calmed down enough to climb back to their feet, though they continued to release bursts of laughter.

“All right, now we’ve got to show everyone else,” Ginny commented.

“Yeah. I think ‘Mione’s in the library,” Harry said with a roll of his eyes, “and Ron’s probably upstairs protecting his stuff from the earlier threats. I’ll take him if you’ll grab her?”

“Okay.”

“Sure, leave us with the larger group, why don’t you,” Sirius teased, as he thumped Remus on the shoulder with his hand. “Moony, if you’ll go grab my camera from upstairs, I’ll fetch our proud felines’ mother.”

“Yes, sir, fearless leader, sir,” Remus replied, offering an informal salute. “Merlin knows the woman could use a shot of gigglewater.”

Of course, when Molly Weasley caught sight of her most bothersome children’s predicament, her shrieks of laughter exceeded the combined efforts of the pranking foursome’s.

“Oh… My… Sirius…” she hiccupped between giggles as she calmed down. “You gave them the Fab & Gid treatment, Morgana bless.”

“Huh?” asked Harry and a just-arrived Ron, whose head kept swivelling back and forth in shock. He clearly didn’t which sight was more interesting: his brothers and their outrageous situation, or his mother and her uncharacteristic reaction.

Remus took pity on the confused teens and explained. “Back during the first conflict with You-Know-Who, we used to play pranks during Order meetings as a way to relieve stress. One time, Molly’s brothers Fabian and Gideon, these two’s namesakes,” he gestured at the petrified duo, “did something similar to James and Sirius, only they took it a step further.”

“Yeah, they added sound effects,” Sirius commented sourly. “They made me sound like a demented kitten.” He shuddered. “Moony and Lily never let us live it down.”

This made Mrs. Weasley laugh even harder. “You know they used the china kitten plates that that horrible woman, Umbridge, used to keep in her office at the Ministry as an inspiration.”

At that, Remus gave a shudder. “Ugh, don’t remind me of her. She still has them up in her Undersecretary office, you know. After I got publically exposed by Snape as a werewolf, she hijacked my meeting with DRCMC to bitch at me about ‘endangering the precious children by contaminating them with my very presence’.”

Harry patted his uncle’s back as Sirius growled. “I hate that bitch.”

“What the bloody hell!” Hermione’s screech distracted the group from such depressing thoughts.

“Ah, Hermione, I see you’ve decided to take in our little Art piece,” Sirius said, waving at the wall display. “Not to worry, no Wizards were permanently harmed in the production of this exhibit. They’re just feeling a little humble-pie.”

“Now then,” Remus said, gesturing with the camera he had brought downstairs. “Everyone get together and we’ll take a picture.”

With his eyes closed, Harry relived that wonderful afternoon. It was a time filled with admiring Order members commenting on a prank well done and reminiscing over good times.

His moment of recall was interrupted by a cough; someone was trying to get his attention.

Sighing, Harry let the happy memory go. He opened his eyes, looking toward the sound.

“Good thoughts?”

The interloper was a mild-sounding Neville, an odd spiky cactus-like potted plant held in one arm. When Harry blinked, nonplussed, Neville gave a wry grin. “You had quite the smirk on your face.”

“Ah, yes. Just remembering the prank we played on Fred and George yesterday.”

“Would this have something to do with the crazy hair they’re sporting today? I saw them in the corridor earlier with Lee.”

“Yup, that’s the last lingering bit of it. I’ve got pictures to show you later.”

“Awesome. Hey, I was just coming to tell you that the triplets have claimed another compartment if you want to come to join us?”

“Sure.” 

Harry climbed out of his seat. He followed Neville down the rocking corridor of the moving train with the ease of long habit. “So, what’s with the pot?”

“Present from my Gran. It’s called a _Mimbulus Mimbletonia_. It’s very rare and unusual, so we don’t really know what conditions it prefers. I’m planning to have Professor Sprout and the Herbology Club help me figure that out this year.”

“Cool,” Harry replied, as they dodged a pair of – tiny – first years who were running down the corridor. He wasn’t really much of a Herbology buff, but Nev was a genius about growing things. Herbology was a hobby that Harry’s friend could indulge in safely, one that wouldn’t draw Dumbledore’s attention. “So, does it have any interesting properties?”

“According to what I’ve read, it’s got some kind of instinctive defence. I haven’t tested that yet.”

“Why don’t you wait until after you’ve gotten it to Hogwarts and Professor Sprout is on hand,” Harry advised, thinking of the Whomping Willow and some of the other biological defence mechanisms that they’d studied in Herbology. “We don’t need to be attracting attention, you know.”

“Sure,” Neville said with a shrug. “Here we are.”

He reached out and slid aside the door to the nearest compartment. Inside three heads of long hair – one blond, one black, and one red – were bent over a single parchment.

When the door slid open, they looked up, nonchalantly covering the thing on their laps as they did so.

“Oh. Harry, Nev, it’s just you,” Ginny said. The trio relaxed as Harry and Neville slid onto the bench across from the plotting girls.

“So, what’s up?” Harry asked, glancing over at the ‘Trio of Terror’ as he took his seat.

“Just making plans for the year,” Mal commented mildly. “We’re trying to figure out which of the first years this year we should pay extra attention toward.” Unlike her Weasley cousin, Mafalda ‘Mal’ Prewett had inherited the Black Family’s dark hair from her grandmother, Lucretia, instead of the red of her grandfather’s family.

“Since this lucky girl,” she elbowed Ginny, “and her family invaded the old homestead this summer, we didn’t get a chance to plan in person before the train ride. So we’re doing a quick check-in before we start our rounds.”

Born to a Squib father and Muggle mother, Mal had been taken in by her grandparents after exhibiting accidental magic at a very young age. While her parents – especially her father – were proud of her skills, they knew that Mal was better off raised within the Wizarding World. Thus, Mal had grown up as a part of the extended Black Family. She had been one of Harry’s closest childhood friends thanks to Lucretia and Ignatius’ close connection with Grandmother Walburga and awareness of Harry’s secret life.

At school and in public, they kept their distance – necessary since the ‘Golden Boy of Gryffindor’ couldn’t be friends with Slytherins – but in private, Mal was a beloved little sister.

“Yes,” a dreamy voice interrupted. “We’re checking for infestations of blibbering humdingers.”

After translating Luna-speak in his head, Harry replied, “Sounds good. Keep us informed.” He knew from experience that the comment was actually Luna’s way of saying that they would be keeping an eye out for those who might be a threat.

The three girls skipped out of the compartment, Ginny and Luna headed in one direction and Mal in the other. After they left, Neville claimed the window seat on the bench across from Harry, moving from his friend’s side.

“So how are things looking politically? Gran hasn’t told me much.”

“We’re giving Fudge a long rope to hang himself,” Harry said with a sly grin. “If we can get things sorted before Tommy-boy goes public, he’s helped us weaken the Old Man’s position. If not, well, we’re positioning our allies to step in when his Administration falls apart. You should have seen the ridiculous posturing that was my ‘Hearing’, they both made themselves look ludicrous.”

Harry then gave a little chuckle before he continued his description. “With the bright colours and peacocking, the pair of them reminded me far too much of our idiot DADA teacher from 2nd year.”

“That bad?”

“Oh, yes. Even though Gran Dorea has explained many times, I still find it hard to believe that… ehm… ended up in such a high position.”

“Yes, well,” Neville said, “we’ve talked about the problems our Community has with confusing Appearance and Reality.”

“To our advantage,” Harry commented with a nod.

“Yup.”

The rest of the train ride passed in a blur. Harry and Neville were visited by any number of other students during the journey.

These included the usual batch of sight-seers wanting a look at ‘the-Boy-Who-Lived’, the teen who had survived being attacked by yet another Dark Wizard. Harry was glad to see the backs of those groups, even though he smiled and acted friendly while they were around.

“Better you than me,” Neville teased when Harry groused.

“I know, I know,” Harry grumbled, “prat.”

“Wanker.”

Then there were the representatives of Harry’s various allies.

Susan Bones led the Hufflepuff contingent, who reassured Harry that their alliance stood strong despite their public estrangement the previous year. Of course, Harry had known that the smarter Hufflepuffs had been exaggerating their behaviour during the Tournament, but with his nerves raw from nightmares of Cedric’s death, it was still nice to hear.

After attending the prefects meeting during the first portion of the trip, Hermione and Ron also joined them in their compartment. It was during this period that Draco made his annual stop.

The Slytherin prince passed Harry a scroll of information, using the cover of an attempted brawl to hide his movements. Harry knew that the missive would be an update on the Slytherin upper years, especially those whose parents were in the Dark Lord’s camp.

Having riled Ron’s temper, Draco and company then took their leave, noses in the air.

It took the joint efforts of all three of the other Gryffindors in the compartment to get the fuming redhead calmed down, but eventually, they managed. Once he had relaxed and had a snack (a Chocolate Frog Harry bought from the Trolley Witch), Hermione insisted that the duo ‘patrol’ the train.

Ron tried to protest but got no support from his male friends.

“Sorry Mate,” Harry commented mildly, “that’s the price of your badge.”

With a growl, Ron reluctantly allowed Hermione to drag him out of the compartment. He complained as he did so, setting off his female friend on another of her usual lectures.

Once the still-bickering duo left, Harry and Nev were able to get back to their discussion. They were debating how to handle the tensions that came with being in the OWLs year. When Luna and Ginny re-joined them, the conversation expanded even further. Mal had joined her Slytherin allies in another compartment, but the remaining foursome exchanged notes about their various encounters even as the journey to Hogwarts reached an end.

Looking out the train window one last time, Harry could see the lights of Hogwarts, shining brightly in the darkened sky. Then the train turned a corner, hiding the school from view behind the forest’s bulk. As the train slowed in preparation for arrival into the Hogsmeade station, Harry took a deep breath.

_Back again,_ he thought grimly. _Let’s go see what excitement awaits us this year._

Letting the breath that he held go, he followed his friends out of the compartment and into the train’s passageway.


	12. Letter Interlude: Helping Remus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Animagus inspiration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, the text of the letter images is provided below the actual images.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

September 5th, 1971

Dear Mum,

Cousin James came back from break with a truly wild idea. He’s been researching werewolves ever since he figured out Lupin’s secret and found something interesting in the Potter library.

You know how werewolves only attack humans and no other type of being?

Well, Jamie found a journal from one of the Potter ancestors on the subject. The journals author, Nicodemius Potter, a Potioneer back in the 1600’s, was out one full moon night gathering ingredients in the forest near his home when he ran across a werewolf on the prowl. The beast took chase. Nicodemius had then dropped his wand and was treed by the beast.

Now, like many Potters (apparently) Nicodemius had mastered the animagus transformation (he was a mink). Under stress, he transformed. Once he was in his beast shape, the werewolf below him calmed and even wandered off. This left the surprised Wizard able to reclaim his wand.

Curious, he located the werewolf, climbed back into a tree, and retook his human form. When his scent reached the werewolf, it resumed trying to reach him and attack.

According to the journal, the crazy old man continued testing by gathering potions supplies on the full moon in known werewolf hunting grounds. He witnessed several werewolves display the same behaviour, attacking his human form while ignoring his animal form.

Eventually he was killed one full moon by the werewolf that he was investigating. But, that didn’t make his research wrong.

Jamie thinks that we should follow his ancestor’s example and become animagi too. Then we can spend the full moons with Lupin without fear of death or becoming wolves ourselves.

He even brought a special Potter Grimoire on the topic: He says its common practice for the Potters to become animagi when they come of age. We’re just doing it a little earlier than usual.

Most of them succeed but don’t register. Makes me wonder how many other people do the same thing.

Thoughts?

By the way, I was hoping to have an adult we trust help us if we get stuck mid-transformation. According to James’ book, it happens a lot. Do you know if we have any family that might be able to help, Aunt Dorea maybe?

We can’t very well go to McGonagall without our attempt becoming an open secret.

Sirius

P.S. Reggie seems to be settling in okay in Slytherin. Sev is keeping an eye on him for me since I can’t go down to the dungeons. We’re going to blow hot and cold in public, not that we don’t act like that at home anyways. 


	13. Shooting the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Order meeting stirs up old memories - leading to an exciting Full Moon.

“Everyone, settle down. Let’s come to order.” Moody’s gruff voice cut through the multitude of casual conversations occurring throughout the room. As had become common, the Order of the Phoenix meeting was taking place in Grimmauld Place’s ballroom, the only ‘open’ space in the house large enough to fit the full group.

Glancing over at the still-decorated wall, the place where the Weasley Twins had been displayed, Sirius allowed himself a brief smirk. Then, he and Remus claimed a couch set in a corner of the room.

Albus Dumbledore, the man on stage, the head of the Order, had already claimed his position front and centre. But the old coot wasn’t content to use one of the multitudes of mixed seating scattered around the room. Instead, he had conjured himself a special seat. The conjuration was a heavy edifice of carved wood and velvet, a seat reminiscent of the ornate structure where Dumbledore sat for meals in Hogwarts’ Great Hall.

Leaning over, Sirius whispered to Remus, “that looks FAR too much like a throne for my liking.”

From his own seat nearby, Moody let out a sharp snort of agreement. He had clearly overheard Sirius’ comment. “Not that much of a surprise, eh lad,” he agreed, flashing a wry smile. “Albus does tend to like to ‘rule’.”

As conversations began to die down, those few which still remained became increasingly audible to Sirius’ sensitive ears. On the far side of Moody, Sirius caught snatches of Tonks and Shacklebolt’s discussion over the new Auror schedules. From what he could overhear, it seemed that there had been a DMLE department meeting just that morning to set said schedules.

“Now that the kiddies are off to school, you’d think our jobs would calm down, but nooo…” Tonks groaned, rolling her eyes.

“Buck up, Tonks. I know it’s your first year as a full Auror, but that’s no excuse to slack off.”

“I know, I know. It’s just I was hoping to get a real project instead of being stuck on Diagon Patrol all the time.”

“Initiation, Rookie,” Sirius teased, interrupting the discussion, “James and I did those shifts when we first started in the Department, and we were officially in the middle of a war at the time.”

Shacklebolt laughed. “Forgot you saw service in the MLE, Black,” he said with a grin. “We could use more people like you these days. Far too many of the current crop joined after the war had already ended. They have no real experience with the kind of fighting we saw back in the day.”

Sirius sighed, “I know. I checked, and there’s only one Auror from my Academy Class still on active status. Over half our cohort is dead, and the other half were either knocked out by permanent injuries or ended up in Azkaban,” he added. “Some of them were Death Eaters, while others turned to illegal substances to cope with the trauma, and then got arrested.”

“Then there are the werewolves,” Remus commented, mildly.

Sirius looked over at his friend and winced. “Yeah, Greyback and his gang of thugs got a bit Bite-happy during the War. I know several good men and women who were fired by the Ministry after being Bit in the line of duty.”

The group would have kept going, but this time Dumbledore interrupted. When he called everyone to attention, Sirius knew that it was time to focus.

“My dear Witches and Wizards, I sit before you all bearing both good news and bad news,” the Headmaster announced. “For better or worse, Voldemort–“ winces, “has decided that he is not yet ready to openly reveal his return. Instead, my dear Severus reports that he is focused on consolidating power and reclaiming old alliances. Thus, Our Order is not yet required to conduct pitched battle. On the contrary, Our Focus now must be on prevention. We cannot allow Voldemort to acquire the tools – weapons and allies – that he needs to reignite the war.”

“Now, there is one tool in particular that I will require the aid of the entire Order to protect. Hidden deep in the **Department of Mysteries** is an object that Voldemort is desperate to claim. While the object is kept in a secure space, the Ministry is unaware that it is a particular target. Thus, it is necessary for the Order to provide an additional line of defence.”

Dumbledore waved over at his friend and contemporary, Elphias Doge, who was acting as the meeting’s secretary. “My dear Elphias has the roster. I would ask all of you to sign up for guard shifts, just as you did for our beloved boy Saviour a short time ago.”

When Dumbledore finished speaking, he glanced over at Sirius. As he did so, Dumbledore shook his head. The fugitive animagus knew what that meant. It meant that he was once again forbidden from participating. 

Glancing at Remus, Sirius gave his friend a wry grin.

If Sirius had actually been as restricted as Dumbles believed, the exclusion would have rankled. As it was, Sirius had no interest in wasting his time. He knew that the Family Black had removed the sphere containing the Harry Potter/Dark Lord prophecy from the Ministry years before.

Lucretia and Cassiopeia, the Blacks in place in the **Department of Mysteries** , had created a faux prophecy sphere. This fake appeared genuine at first inspection, but when triggered by the named individuals it would fail to play the full prophecy. Instead, its contents were limited to the first segment of the prophecy – the part that Tommy-boy already knew.

Sirius and Harry, on the other hand, were both well aware of the full text of the prophecy. When they had first stolen the artefact, Harry had had to trigger its playback in order to create the fake that replaced the original in the Hall of Prophecy. That first listen had been hard for both of them, but especially the pre-Hogwarts aged Harry. It took a great deal of discussion with Sirius and others before Harry had been able to accept the burden that the prophecy placed upon his shoulders. Of course, Sirius and the rest of the Family Black were determined to lighten that load as much as they possibly could.

_After all,_ Sirius had told his godson, _the prophecy only said that you had to be the one to pull the final trigger. It doesn’t say that you have to lead the fight against the Dark Wanker. Not at your age and not if I have anything to say about it._

Of course, those of the Family in the know about the prophecy had mixed opinions on the exact meaning. Some – like Sirius – took it to mean that Harry had to be the one to finish off the dark wizard. Others thought that it simply implied that the pair were destined to be rivals – neither could live in peace while the other survived. Still others thought of Harry as the catalyst; he had to be the reason that Riddle was deceased, but not necessarily the one doing the actual elimination.

On one thing, though, everyone agreed. Both Dumbledore and Riddle likely assumed the worst possible interpretation – at least where it came to Harry.

Turning his attention back to the meeting in progress, Sirius realized that Dumbledore was giving out further assignments. Various Order members tasked with information gathering or blocking alliances within specific elements of the Wizarding World.

“Remus, your task is the Werewolf packs here in Britain. Do your best to ensure that they don’t ally themselves with Voldemort. If that proves impossible, simply keep the rest of the Order informed as to the packs’ allegiances.”

Sirius reached out and patted Remus on the thigh even as his fellow Marauder’s back stiffened. He knew that Remus’ problem wasn’t with the assigned task. As a representative of the Family Black, Remus had a very good relationship with most of the country’s werewolves – both lone wolves and packs. 

Near the end of the original conflict in the 1970s, Remus had come to the Family Black with a problem. Dumbledore and the Order had charged him with convincing the packs to side with the Light but had failed to provide any form of motivation. With support from Walburga as Matriarch Black, he put forth a proposal. What if the Family were to take on the charge of helping the – thanks to Greyback and his allies – newly expanded werewolf population of Britain?

It took a great deal of discussion, but eventually, the Family agreed. The current Lord Black – Arcturus – had offered up a large, vacant Black property as a werewolf Sanctuary. There, any wolf who agreed to remain neutral in the war – or even better, become an active ally – was allowed to run freely on Full Moon nights. Meanwhile, some of the newly allied packs – those who preferred to live wild at all times of the month – were given guardianship over the Sanctuary. In exchange for overseeing and maintaining the extensive grounds and Wards, those packs became permanent residents.

Meanwhile, for those who preferred to mainstream – or live as normal Witches and Wizards – the Family Black made an additional offer. They would provide the affected werewolves aid in locating work out in the world. This aid could be anything from a simple letter of recommendation to legal aid in job negotiation, to actual employment.

After almost two decades of support, the general population of weres in Britain was firmly allied with the Family Black. Unlike the Dark Lord, the Ministry, or even the Light Lord Dumbledore, the Family had done more than just make promises. They had shown by their actions that they were serious about the alliance. Both Sirius and Remus had no doubt that Riddle’s recruitment efforts would be doomed to failure within the werewolf community this time around. Riddle would probably manage to recruit Greyback and his gang of bullies – a scant handful of men – and that was about it.

No, what was upsetting Remus was Dumbledore’s plan. The emphasis on Remus’ status as a Dark Creature had made him appear less trustworthy in the eyes of the Order during the first Voldemort conflict. It had even driven a wedge with James, as their friend’s naivety had caused him to buy into Dumbledore’s rhetoric about Dark Creatures and thus doubt Remus’ loyalty. Losing his friend’s trust had hurt Remus deeply, Sirius knew, especially when the other Marauder had passed before they were reconciled. Now, Dumbledore was once again setting Remus up for a fall.

Not on Sirius’ watch, not this time around.

He barely heard as Dumbledore gave out the rest of the individual assignments: Hagrid was off visiting the Giants, Dung (Mundungus Fletcher) was charged with Knockturn and the underbelly of Wizarding London, Kingsley was assigned the DMLE, and a few others were assigned the part of the community that corresponded to their day-to-day lives. Instead, his focus was on providing non-verbal comfort to the man at his side.

Before long, the Order meeting broke up, with those not currently residing at Grimmauld Place heading home by various means.

Albus Dumbledore was the last to leave, using the ballroom fireplace to Floo back to Hogwarts. Before he left, the old goat once again reminded Sirius that ‘it wasn’t safe for him to leave the house’. As he turned away from the older man’s vanishing form, Sirius rolled his eyes. _Merlin, the bastard is so insufferable._

Sirius was glad that the Weasleys were no longer living at Grimmauld Place. Instead, Remus and Sirius had their privacy back. After making a final loop through the public areas to check for stragglers – and make sure that Dung wasn’t trying to steal things again – Sirius made his way upstairs. When he reached the family parlour, he found a visibly steaming Severus comforting his still upset husband.

“Sometimes,” Severus told his friend, “I just want to strangle the old wanker with my bare hands. Merlin knows I have good reason. He only gave the Order part of the story. The truth is that the resurrected ‘Dark Lord’ is nowhere near the overpowered villain he managed to become during the previous War. He’s not managed to recover his full Magical strength, and probably never will. Besides, many of his old allies will be disinclined to join him thanks to our efforts over the past decade. You know the Old Man is only pushing this so hard because fear is how he stays relevant.”

Sirius nodded with a grimace.

“I know, old friend, but he’s arrogant. If we play it just right, we can take care of Tommy-boy before he makes a public splash and then use Dumbles’ fear-mongering and Fudge’s reactionary actions against the old man.”

“Wouldn’t that be brilliant,” Remus finally murmured from where he leaned against his husband’s side. “To see the old manipulator hoisted on his own petard.”

Now it just so happened that September’s full moon was that very evening. Thus, Remus, Sirius, and Severus, who had escaped Hogwarts by claiming that he had business for the Dark Lord, had already made plans.

“So, you choose,” Sirius reminded his friend. “Are we staying indoors, heading up to the Sanctuary, or borrowing Castle Noir’s grounds?”

“Moony’s feeling restless, so I think we need to head somewhere that I can run.”

“And company?”

Remus thought for a minute. “I’ll need to spend at least one moon at the Sanctuary later, but I think for this one I’d rather it just be our pack.”

“The Castle it is then… Just like old times, huh.”

The pair of long-time friends exchanged grins. Despite the nature of Remus’ curse, they still enjoyed the freedom of the open run; that is when they could get it.

“I bet I can beat you racing these days.”

“Not a chance.”

“So you say.”

“That’s enough, you two. If we’re not staying here then we’d better get a move-out. The moon’s already up, so Remus’ transformation will be triggered as soon as the sun sets.”

Sirius and Remus turned to the third member of their Pack present.

“It’s fine, Sev, we’ve got plenty of time,” Sirius replied, with a bit of a whine.

“Sure, you say that now, but I remember what happened the last time.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Two words: WHOMPING WILLOW.”

“Oh… Yeah… Fine, let’s go.”

The events of that Full Moon night so many years before had been thoroughly confused by all but the trio of Wizards now present. What actually happened was the following:

Like the Marauders, Severus had been working on gaining an Animagus form for years. Since he had gotten started later than the other boys, he didn’t succeed until near the end of his fifth year. Even then, it was only thanks to Sirius’ help and advice that he managed it. Finally, though, he had mastered the transformation!

Full Moon runs had been a common story passed from Sirius and Remus to their Slytherin friend. However, the prats had refused to inform Severus where to go – ‘at least,’ Siri said, ‘until he could demonstrate his form.’ Now, the time had finally arrived.

It was time for a run.

Sirius had already convinced the other Marauders that they couldn’t join Remus for on that particular full moon night. Instead, the trio would play a special Full Moon prank on the Slytherins – one that would help kill a spate of ‘werewolf rumours’. After all, if Remus was known to have been setting a prank on a full moon night, he couldn’t possibly be a werewolf, now could he?

James and Peter had agreed – reluctantly – and Remus had headed off to the Shack alone. Only then did Sirius, grinning like one of the Merfolk except without the sharp teeth, sneak away. He needed to finally put Sev out of his misery and reveal the trick of the Whomping Willow.

Of course, something went terribly wrong. James Potter, believing that the intensity of Sirius’ grin meant a secret prank, had followed the other boy. He managed to overhear just enough of the ‘rivals’ conversation to realize that Severus now knew how to reach the Shack.

Given that Sirius had waited until the last minute to give Sev the directions, it was then a race across the grounds.

Severus, in the lead, was hoping to get to the Shack in time to show Remus his form before the moon rose. James, behind him, was trying to stop Sirius’ ‘horrible prank’ before it left Severus injured or dead. Finally, Sirius, in the back, having been informed of James’ ‘discovery’ by a snide Pettigrew, had to make sure that secrets weren’t exposed.

In the end, things worked out for the best. Sirius and Severus used the incident (and what James, Peter, and Dumbledore believed happened) to further their ‘rivalry’. But Sev would never let his friend live it down…

A trio of cracks, indicating arrivals via Apparition, shattered the peace of the forest clearing. A number of birds took off from nearby trees. A herd of deer, grazing in a field nearby looked up as one, before going back to their meals.

“Every time,” Sirius said, lightly shoving his friend. “You have to bring that up every, single, bloody time.”

“Yes well, you did keep me from showing my crush my present at the perfect time… but look, he married me anyway.”

“Fine, rub it in why don’t you. You two wankers have been together since Hogwarts, while I haven’t had a proper relationship in almost fifteen years.” He held up a hand when Remus went to say something.

“And no, shagging a bird that I picked up in a Muggle bar doesn’t count.”

Their bantering was interrupted when a stab of pain informed Remus that he’d better get undressed before he destroyed his robes. He stripped off his clothes efficiently, as the other two continued their bickering.

As the sun disappeared below the horizon, the pain kicked in in earnest. Remus’ transformation had begun. Bowing his back, he tried not to scream as the bones shifted and rearranged, fur sprouting from all over his body.

Seeing that the transformation was underway, the bickering duo set aside their fun in favour of hovering over their friend. As Moony collapsed, adjusting to his transformed state, Sirius gestured to his beloved rival.

“Shall we, Bagheera?”

“We shall, Padfoot.”

Unlike Moony’s transition, the Animagus transformation was smooth and painless. Both Wizards seemed to flow into their animal states. They crouched on either side of the werewolf; their black hides making his fur, a mixture of sand and grey, stand out in contrast.

Once the transformed werewolf recovered from the pain, all that the trio needed was to exchange glances, and the hunt was on. Out of respect for their lost friend, they chose not to target the herd of deer grazing nearby. Instead, the challenge was to see who could catch the largest number of small game.

Bagheera, the only one comfortable above the ground, made a killing on birds and arboreal rodents. Padfoot used his sensitive nose to track down wild hares and other burrowing creatures. Moony, the most aggressive, managed to track and kill a wild boar. The look he gave the others when he dragged it to the others said clearly, _this counts as more than one_.

In the end, the panther’s agility and ability to hunt a larger range of animals put him ahead. The three carnivores sated their hunger with the catches that suffered the worst damage. After they were finished, Severus changed back to human very briefly. He put the rest of their prey into stasis for collection in the morning. Kreacher would be pleased that their hunt had added some fresh game to Grimmauld’s pantry.

Then, their energy consumed by the hunt and competition, the trio of ‘animals’ spent the rest of the evening curled up in a furry pile sleeping and digesting.

Sometime in the early morning hours, moonset occurred, and Moony shifted back into Remus. The reverse transformation being much less painful, he merely rolled over and fell back asleep. The heat from two large furry bodies kept the cold at bay despite his unclothed state. Dawn would arrive soon enough. 


	14. Letter Interlude: Curses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius asks his mum about the DADA curse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this is a shorter letter, it still takes up two images. As ever, the image text is included below.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

June 15th, 1972

Dear Mum,

The Defence Against the Dark Arts curse has struck again.

Dun, dun, dun….

Our professor was just carted off to St. Mungos after being hit by an unfortunate combination of spells when he interrupted the Ravenclaw NEWTs study group while they were preparing for their practical exams. You know how inventive and focused Ravenclaws are around exam times, especially the important exams.

Rumour has it that he suffered enough damage to keep him out of commission for at least a year.

Sadly, we still have to take our exams. Professor Argent had mostly finished preparing them before the accident.

I’ve heard that Dumbledore convinced some of his friends at the DMLE to supervise the practical exams. To be honest, I’m actually looking forward to that part a bit since they should be coming in with fewer expectations so I can get away with certain things.

You mentioned that was the advantage of OWLs and NEWTs over the yearly tests.

By the way, mum, do you know what the story is behind the Defence curse? None of the professors here will admit that they know anything. We checked and according to the Hogwarts records, there hasn’t been a DADA professor who lasted more than a year since the late ‘50s.

Don’t worry; I won’t let my curiosity distract me too much from revising. We do have one final prank planned to finish off the year; tell you about it when I get home.

Sirius


	15. Dealing with Toad-Faced Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Harry's 5th year at Hogwarts begins, he must face the latest Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher - Dolores Umbridge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this chapter was the turning point in my decision to make Umbridge a more dominant villain than I had originally outlined.

As he flipped open the textbook, Harry let out a nearly inaudible sigh. As was his usual practice, he’d briefly glanced through the book right after it was purchased. The cursory glance had been enough to establish the uselessness of the text. At the time, he had hoped that its selection had been the mistake of an inexperienced teacher. Now, of course, he knew better.

Umbridge’s book selection had been deliberate. Its contents were an excellent match for her plans for the curriculum. With another teacher, Harry might have been inclined to complain. But, under the circumstances, now was not the time to protest.

While pretending to follow directions, Harry instead allowed his mind to drift. He thought back a few days to that year’s Hogwarts Welcome Feast.

When Harry glanced up at the High Table after entering the Great Hall, he froze.

Behind him, several students stumbled. Harry’s abrupt stop had them scrambling not to trip over him. But Harry didn’t notice. His attention was focused elsewhere.

_That’s just great,_ he thought as he eyed a squat figure seated on the right side of the High Table. She sat, arrayed in pastel pink, a smug grin plastered across her face. _Umbridge is at Hogwarts._

It looked like his discussion with Siri tonight would be EXTRA fun.

_I wonder why Uncle Sev didn’t mention it to the Family, or at least not to me?_ Harry thought, and then shrugged. _Maybe he wanted me to have a genuine reaction?_

His brief halt ended, and he moved forward once more. With absent-minded steps, he made his way to the right, heading for the Gryffindor table. It was with the ease of long habit that he claimed the first open seat at the table, settling his arse down on the cushioned bench with a comfortable sigh.

“Who the bleedin’ hell is that,” Ron Weasley’s voice rose to be heard above the babble of conversations happening all around them. His friend, having claimed the seat to Harry’s right, was gesturing towards the High Table. It was clear that he was talking about Umbridge.

Before Harry could respond, Hermione jumped in to do so.

“Don’t point like that Ronald, it’s rude,” she scolded, and then she added. “I would assume that the Witch must be our new Defence teacher.”

From his place, a few seats down the bench, another of Harry’s dorm mates, Seamus Finnegan, snorted. “Maybe so, but that’s not all she is. That there is ‘Madame Dolores Umbridge’, Minister Fudge’s Senior Undersecretary.”

When some of the other students stared at him, he flushed.

“Me mam had some bad run-ins with her back when I was a wee lad. I were doin’ accidental magic, like any tot, and she was the first responder on site a couple of times. She tried ta Obliviate me da.”

Harry winced. That fit with what he knew of the woman. While the Family didn’t think she had actually been involved with Riddle during the last war, it wasn’t for lack of agreement with his agenda. The Witch had a well-earned reputation for bigotry, mostly against those with creature blood, but still. It was ironic, given that in some circles Umbridge herself would not be considered a pureblood. 

On her mother’s side, Dolores Umbridge was descended from a long line of near squibs. The women in her family rarely even had enough magic for a Hogwarts letter. Instead, they were prized as broodmares. For Barrow women were famous for one thing: producing sons with their husbands’ magical strength and their generally attractive own physical appearance. 

_People say that she must have stolen her twin’s magic before birth, and he cursed her for it;_ Aunt Andi had told him the other day when he had asked her about Umbridge. After his encounter at the Hearing and the multitude of glares that she had thrown his way, he knew that she was a possible future threat.

_Her mother was originally carrying twins, but she lost one of them partway through the pregnancy. Poor Cynthia Barrow was rendered barren; a first for her line. It was quite the scandal back in the day. Her father, Mister Umbridge took up a second wife, who eventually gave him Dolores’ half-brother, the Heir Umbridge. Meanwhile, he had Cynthia and Dolores set aside, abandoned and forgotten. There were rumours of what Cynthia must have done to survive, things not spoken about in polite company. I have no doubt that many of them were true._

Listening to the story, Harry had shaken his head. A depressing childhood was no justification for cruelty as an adult. As Andi continued to share all that she knew about Umbridge’s career, Harry soon realized that the woman was a monster. In some ways, she was worse than Riddle, for she chose to target the weak instead of adhering to a clear-cut agenda. 

Harry knew that with her at Hogwarts he would have to be on his toes. If he wasn’t then he would be the first target that her wand point tracked.

Listening to Umbridge’s speech at the end of the Welcome Feast, the disturbance in Harry’s gut worsened. Her soliloquy was long and full of the florid, flowery phrases that characterized Fudge’s public appearances. Thus, it put most of the students to sleep.

However, and Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table to confirm his impression, buried underneath the droning was a disturbing message.

Umbridge’s agenda was clear: the Ministry – and her as its agent – intended to claim control over Hogwarts.

A huff at his side as the speech wrapped up was further reinforcement. Glancing over, Harry saw that his friend Hermione was glaring at Umbridge from her place at his side. She practically growled, “did you hear that, that –“ Her voice trailed off as if she just couldn’t find the right words.

“I prefer insane, sociopathic toad, myself,” Harry commented, mildly.

Hermione blinked. “-Yes, that’ll do, thank you, Harry,” she agreed. “Did you catch what she said?”

Confused, Ron glanced between his two friends. “What, it was all nonsense, wasn’t it?”

“It did sound that way, yes. But there were important bits buried inside the babble,” Harry replied.

Hermione agreed, nodding decisively. “It seems that the Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts.”

In that moment, Harry was reminded, once again, why he’d first become friends with Hermione. Despite her sometimes-ridiculous blind spots, she really was frighteningly intelligent. Besides, her passion for justice was second-to-none.

Growing up with stories of the Marauders as he had, Harry was reminded of Sirius’ tales of Harry’s father, James Potter. In many ways, Hermione was just like the deceased wizard, intelligent but not subtle. Of course, Hermione also had the advantage of Remus’ kind of academic brilliance, which James had lacked.

Harry, on the other hand, was more like his godfather, Sirius. This was evident in both his secret Slytherin tendencies and his bad habit of acting first and thinking later, especially when his emotions were engaged.

In that schema, Harry knew that the closest equivalent of Ron was Peter Pettigrew. His sly cleverness was offset by extreme laziness, and he was prone to disturbing bouts of irrational jealousy, just as Pettigrew had been in school.

Still, the similarity of personality did not mean that Ron would follow Wormtail’s bad example. After all, Ron had strong family support. Pettigrew only had a sickly mother in his corner. Plus, Ron had Pettigrew as an example of what not to do. Or so Harry hoped anyways.

Back in Defence class, Harry was interrupted from his musing less than a minute after it had begun.

The sickeningly saccharine tone of Umbridge’s voice snapped him instantly back to the present. “Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?” she asked.

Looking around, Harry realized that the woman’s question was directed at Hermione. The teenage witch sat at her desk with her textbook unopened and her hand shot straight up in the air.

Harry suppressed a sigh. It figured that his impetuous friend couldn’t help herself. Instead, she had put the witch at metaphorical wand-point.

“Not about the chapter, no,” Hermione replied, cagey. “It’s about your course aims.”

_Of course,_ Harry thought, amused. _Hermione just couldn’t let poor teaching pass. It just wouldn’t be “right”._

What followed next was a complete comedy of errors.

As Umbridge spoke, she managed to insult nearly every student present, even the worst of the pureblood Slytherin contingent. More and more of the students chimed in to challenge her statements. As they did, the toad-like witch grew increasingly furious. Harry almost expected steam to pour out of her ears. He knew it wouldn’t be long before she ‘blew’.

Of course, Harry knew that he couldn’t risk some other, more innocent, student bear the brunt of her wrath. Especially not Hermione, whose place as a Muggleborn and his friend would make her a natural target. Instead, Harry acted to place himself firmly in Umbridge’s crosshairs. Using a single, carefully constructed comment – he forced her hand.

“You know,” he said casually, speaking to the room at large and thus not addressing the fuming witch directly, “if the Ministry keeps overstepping itself like it did in August...” His comment was, of course, referring to the events of his recent Hearing. “The entire Administration may end up removed from office. It’s not like they’ve been particularly… effective… in recent years.”

_Aaand success._

The black bow in Umbridge’s hair, which had been barely hanging on before, flew off as the woman lunged forward. Pushing herself right up into his face, she spat, “THAT IS IT. Detention, Mr. Potter. Tomorrow evening, at Five o’clock.”

“Now then,” she visibly gathered the tatters of her composure. “There will be no more questions or comments. You all will begin your reading… NOW!”

Not wanting to share Harry’s fate – even if they agreed with the sentiment – the rest of the class returned to their books.

The next evening after classes ended, Harry made his way to Umbridge’s office. When he reached the wooden door, he hesitated for a moment, steeling himself. Then, he knocked. Umbridge’s response was almost instantaneous. “Come in,” she called out in her high-pitched voice.

Upon entering the room, Harry found himself in some weird mix of his Aunt Petunia’s lounge and Madame Puddifoot’s Tea Shoppe in Hogsmeade. Umbridge’s office was decked in chintz and lace, with pastel colours, especially pink, everywhere. China plates featuring Magical portraits of kittens covered the entire back wall, providing Umbridge with a peculiar form of soundproofing.

Almost involuntarily, Harry wondered what Professor McGonagall thought of the décor, given her Animagus form. Did she enjoy the sight and sound of other felines, especially kittens? Or did the sheer number of plates and their saccharine imagery cancel out the appreciation? He would bet that it was probably the latter.

“Take a seat, Mr. Potter,” Umbridge ordered. She gestured towards a simple, hard-backed chair at the centre of the room. It had been placed opposite the upholstered seat where she sat. The severe lines of the wooden chair were a direct contrast to the room’s pastel colours and overly fussy decor. Set between the two chairs was a large wooden desk, one that managed to dominate the busy décor thanks to its sheer mass and the ornate carving that covered its exposed surfaces. 

Harry took the indicated seat, squirming to try to find a marginally comfortable position on the flat wooden surface. As he did so, he eyed her beaming smile. It widened, almost unnaturally, even as he shuddered.

Reaching forward, the Professor pulled one of the upper drawers on her desk open. From its depths, she pulled out a sheaf of parchment and a narrow wooden box.

When she opened it, Harry sucked in a breath. Inside the shallow hollow there sat a single quill, steel-grey in colour. Its nib, supernaturally sharp, carried at its edge a sheen of rusty brown.

_A Blood Quill!_ Harry thought, incredulous. _Just what does she think she’s going to have a Wizard who hasn’t reached his maturity yet do with a Blood Quill!_

Thanks to the very thorough education that he’d received from the Blacks, Harry knew exactly what Umbridge held. Blood Quills fell into a curious category in the eyes of Wizarding Britain. They were specially made, enchanted artefacts that could be found across the globe. These powerful objects were not technically illegal. However, the branch of Magic that required the use of Blood Quills had long been rendered illegal in Britain. That branch was Blood Magic.

Harry knew that there were a few exceptions to the ban on Blood Magic, including a couple which used the quills. In particular, Magical inheritances and formal contracts had to be signed with a Blood Quill to be formally sealed.

The reason for that requirement was simple. When a Witch or Wizard signed a legal contract with a Blood Quill, they were linking their magic to the contract. That link acted as a means of enforcement. Failure to follow a signed contract could result in a loss of all or part of an individual’s Magic.

Given the severity of the consequences, contracts requiring Blood Quills were only used under a very limited set of circumstances. Vital agreements like Wills, Adoptions, Marriages, and formal Alliances were the only things that called for such a high level of guarantee.

In addition, the stress caused by the signing of a Blood Quill contract was dangerous for those whose Magical cores had yet to finish maturing. Thus, only those of Legal and Magical Majority were allowed to sign a Blood Quill contract.

Reaching into the box, Umbridge drew out the quill and handed it to Harry with a sharp smile. “This evening, you will be doing lines. You will write the sentence ‘I WILL RESPECT THOSE IN AUTHORITY’ with this quill.”

Harry stared at her, incredulous, for a long moment. Then, when he realized that she wasn’t going to say anything further, he responded. “And how many times am I to write this?” He asked.

“Until it SINKS IN,” she responded, her smile sharpening even further.

_GOTCHA!_ Harry thought.

He began to write, suppressing a wince of pain. He could bear a bit of pain, especially if it would provide the Family an opening. This ‘detention’ definitely qualified. Umbridge’s order was illegal on many, many levels.

For one, she had ordered a Minor to use a Blood Quill without their Magical Guardian present.

For two, the contract that she had ordered written wasn’t one of the Ministry-specified exemptions to the Blood Magic ban.

For three, the Blood Quill was being used without a legally certified individual – a Magical Solicitor – present.

If the DMLE were to be informed of Umbridge’s detention orders, she would be immediately placed under arrest. Depending on the details of her trial, the prescribed punishment could be anything from a fine up to a stay in Azkaban. Given Harry’s status as the Boy-Who-Lived, he was sure that his Family could push for the worst possible penalty should the case actually go before the Wizengamut. 

While Harry wasn’t exactly happy about having to write with his own blood, he knew that following her orders for a few lines wouldn’t do permanent injury. The ‘line’ he’d been given to write was really too vague for his Magic to try to enforce it as a contract. Thus, the only obvious consequence would be a bit of lost blood and a minor temporary drain of his Magic, both of which he should be able to recover within a day.

Harry wasn’t ignorant of other possibilities, of course. He did not intend to allow Umbridge to keep the parchment, not when it was soaked in his blood and Magic. There were far too many ritual usages for such an artefact. Illegal, of course, but clearly the witch cared little for legality. As he wrote, Harry began to make plans for how to take the parchment with him when he left Umbridge’s office. He would need a distraction of some kind…

As his lines approached the bottom of the first sheet, Harry’s writing slowed. He assumed that one sheet would be enough. But Umbridge showed no signs of allowing him to stop.

_What to do, what to do? Ah… That’s it._

With a nudge of his Magic, Harry triggered a prank that he’d set up in the corridor outside the previous evening. It had been prepared as a distraction in case he needed to make a quick escape from detention.

A loud yowling began to echo down the hallway as if a herd of cats high on catnip had decided to throw a party. Umbridge looked up from the paper she was pretending to read while monitoring him with a scowl. “Troublemakers! Do not move. I will return in a moment.”

The second the door closed behind her, Harry set down the Blood Quill.

Massaging the back of his hand, he slid the parchment, now covered in bloody lines, off to one side. Then he ejected his wand from his wrist holster and made an identical copy of the lines’ rust-coloured ink on the page beneath. Once he had done so, he swept the original sheet into the book bag which he’d set by his chair.

Retrieving a self-inking quill from the same bag, he transfigured its exterior to match the Blood Quill. Then he adjusted that quill’s ink so that it became a blood facsimile and dropped the authentic Blood Quill down into the black robes that pooled at his feet.

Setting the Transfigured quill next to the copied parchment, Harry returned his wand to its holster reflexively. Straining his ears, he tried to catch even a hint that the witch was returning. Nothing. Umbridge must still be chasing the false trail of sound that he’d included with the prank.

Harry relaxed as best he could in the hard wooden chair, massaging his hand some more. Using a Blood Quill hurt, and his current seat didn’t help.

After a minute and a few shifts, he stopped. Then he thumped himself in the forehead. _Cushioning charms, dumbass,_ he thought wryly. Re-arming himself, Harry stood up.

Turning around, he cast a temporary cushioning charm on the chair’s seat. Then, he sunk back into his now much more comfortable chair with a sigh. Now Harry was prepared to continue his detention. And it was just in time, too. The click of Umbridge’s heels could now be heard on the hard stone floors outside.

Making the best ‘guilty face’ he could manage, Harry rubbed the back of his hand enough to make it flare red and then dropped his hands into his lap. As she reached the door and opened it with a thud, he picked up the fake quill with a muffled groan.

“Ah, ah, ah, slacking off, were you?” Umbridge asked. Her voice held a hint of anger, presumably because she failed to catch the ‘miscreants’ who had caused the noise. “Your peers’ bad behaviour is no excuse for failing to follow my orders. Now, back to work, Mr. Potter.”

Grimacing, Harry took up the faux Blood Quill and resumed writing.

By the time she released him from detention, Harry’s hand was cramping from all of the lines. He’d also missed any chance of dinner in the Great Hall. Indeed, he only had an hour until curfew.

In four hours of writing, Harry had filled a couple of dozen parchment sheets, which would have cost him a not-insignificant amount of blood had the quill been real. Still, the supposed blood loss gave him an easy way to swap out the transfigured fake for the authentic quill hidden at his feet.

Once Umbridge dismissed him with a – “you’d best have learned your lesson, Mister Potter” – he started to rise before faking light-headedness and falling back into the seat. As he did so, he ‘accidentally’ swept the faux Blood Quill of the table and onto the floor. With a groan, he bent down, and using Sirius’ lessons in sleight-of-hand, swapped the two quills with ease.

To his surprise, instead of allowing the quill to be set on the table, Umbridge snatched the artefact directly out of his hand. Even as he made a second ‘attempt’ to stand, she casually pricked her finger on the quill’s point.

“Still sharp,” she said. Then she replaced it in its wooden case.

_Good thing I snagged the only one with actual blood on it,_ Harry thought as he watched Umbridge smear the blood from her finger onto the back of one of his sheets of lines. _I’ll have to take a close look at the back of the one that I confiscated._

“Off you go, now,” Umbridge said, waving him off. “And make sure that you’re back in the Tower before curfew. I’d hate to have to give you detention again so soon.”

“Vicious bitch,” Harry muttered. He made his way up to the Gryffindor dorms absently, not really paying attention to his surroundings as he walked. “Good thing the Gryffindor Golden Boy is just a mask, or I hate to think what my hand would look like right now.”

When he reached the dorm, Harry dumped his bag onto his bed. Then, he checked to make sure that none of his dorm-mates was currently in their shared bedroom.

Once he was certain that he was alone, Harry pulled his communications mirror out of his nightstand. With a wave of his wand, the four-poster bed’s curtains were closed and the soundproofing activated, giving him the necessary privacy.

“Padfoot,” he called.

The mirror’s surface rippled for a minute. Then it cleared to show Sirius, seated in his bed at Grimmauld Place.

“Hey pup, I wasn’t expecting a call from you tonight was I?”

“Nope Siri, but I have important news.”

In short order, Harry spilled the tale of the night’s detention. Between snarls and vows to hurt the ‘toad-faced Dementor in human form’ for hurting his godson, Sirius reassured Harry that he had made the best of a bad situation.

“Good job, especially in keeping that first parchment from her. You should be fine by tomorrow, your Magic is more than capable of handling the drain from a single page of lines. If your hand keeps you up tonight, soak it in a bit of Essence of Murtlap. That should ease the burning.”

“Will do, Paddy, though I don’t think I’ll need it,” Harry replied. “It itches more than anything right now.”

Together, Sirius and Harry came up with a plan to prevent Umbridge from doing what she’d attempted with Harry to one of the other, more vulnerable, students.

Harry would inform Angelina Johnson, his friend from the Gryffindor Quidditch team and one of the 7th year prefects for his House, about the Blood Quill. Angelina was a pureblood, and thus would be well aware of the dangers such an artefact posed. With her help, he could spread the message that no student was to take solitary detentions with Umbridge, especially Muggleborns and the Muggle-raised.

If necessary, the older students were to force her to give them detentions to ensure this result. Harry didn’t think that the woman would dare her little trick with a witness, especially one who she would expect to be aware of the laws regarding Blood Quills.

Meanwhile, Sirius would contact Severus and let him know about her actions. No doubt, the Potions Master could figure out a more permanent solution, either using the rest of the Staff or, worst-case scenario, even stealing the Quill. It wasn’t as if Umbridge would be able to report the theft of said object. She had no legal right to own it, let alone keep it in a school.

“I missed dinner due to this whole… thing, so I’m going to go talk to Angie and then sneak down to the kitchen for some food,” Harry finally said, as the pair wrapped up their discussion. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow night, okay?”

“Good idea. I’ll see you later, pup.”

“Night, Paddy.”

“Night, my darling boy.”

Harry rolled his eyes as he disconnected the mirror. Sometimes his dogfather could be so ridiculous. Still, he wouldn’t change his family… not for anything.


	16. Letter Interlude: Running Wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Marauders take on their Animagus forms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Padfoot... As always, images are followed by a text version of the letter.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

May 18th, 1973 

Dear Mum,

You remember James’ little project to help our dorm mate?

Well, we’ve been working hard, and, with a little advice from Aunt Dorea, we did it! James and I are (unofficially) ANIMAGI‼‼‼

If you remember, the initial meditation last year, where we saw through the eyes of our animal forms told me that I was going to be some kind of canine. Then I got stuck with dog ears/nose and sported a tail for a week before Aunt Dorea fixed it on a Hogsmeade weekend.

Well, turns out I’m not just any old dog. According to Jamie, I look like a Grim! That is, except I still have the silver ‘Black’ eyes. The pranking possibilities are endless. You can’t tell Reggie or Dad until I get at least one chance to surprise them this summer.

Oh, and Jamie, as predicted by the antlers, is in fact a rather magnificent stag. At least he will be magnificent once he grows into his legs. Right now, his antlers are stubby little things and his legs are too long for his body. It was actually hysterical to watch him stumbling around trying to figure out how to walk on all fours.

I, of course, did much better in that respect (ignore anything Aunt Dorea says otherwise).

Pettigrew, to no one’s shock, is still working on his form. The long tail and whiskers/nose that he’s sprouted on different occasions indicate some kind of rodent.

Since Jamie and I have our full forms, we decided to surprise Remus (Lupin) the other night by joining him for the full moon.

You should have seen the confusion on his face when we showed up at his transformation site. He uses the old Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade, which has been sealed to keep him from escaping while in wolf form.

It took a lot of convincing, but he finally let us stay. He did demand that we have a place to hide if his werewolf still tried to attack. He’s smart like that, you know.

Let me just say, watching poor Remus when he changed looked worse than when Grandfather Pollux showed us the Cruciatus in his memories from the War. I think the ~~bastard~~ monster that created the original werewolf curse was one of the most evil Wizards of all time.

Where was I, oh yes, well it looks like Jamie’s research was correct. He did attack a bit, we think because we were strange animals in his territory.

We backed off, and once he got a good whiff of our scent he calmed down. I think the wolf needed that to recognize us as his friends (Pack?).

We ended up roughhousing to burn off energy, so got a bit bruised. Otherwise, there was no permanent damage from our night.

When he woke up, Remus told us that it was the best he’d ever felt after a full moon. So, of course, we have to keep it up.

I’ve already started planning things to keep Remus’ wolf entertained without accidentally hurting himself or us.

Don’t worry; we’re being careful.

Got to go, Remus has decided to thank us with extra revision work. He’s great at keeping the theory stuff interesting, which you know I get bored with easily.

Sirius

P.S. With our success, Jamie has been hinting about having the group over around the full moons this summer. I’m sure Aunt Dorea has already warned the Potters, but can you check before Jamie blindsides them?


	17. Slow and Steady Wins the Race

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brother's fate revealed... and a toad investigated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, dominated by flashback and meetings, is all about setting the stage for the action ahead.

Sirius and Remus were sitting in the upstairs family room, discussing the situation with Umbridge, when the room’s Floo chimed. Before either man could respond, the flames within its depths flared crimson. A body came hurtling through the fireplace, landing with a thud on the rug-covered floor.

“Severus!” Remus cried, recognizing his husband. “What happened? Are you injured?”

When Severus looked up, however, his face showed no sign of pain. Instead, it glowed with a level of incandescent joy that the other men hadn’t seen in years.

“I solved it!” he cried, throwing his arms around both Sirius and Remus, as the other men had rushed to his side. “The Dark Wanker was in a mood for reminiscing tonight. He was overseeing my potions work at the Malfoy estate when something triggered a memory, and he started talking about a certain… draught.”

Sirius inhaled in shock. _Sev couldn’t mean?_

Interpreting his friend’s look correctly, Severus nodded. His face was still overtaken by the same bright smile that had startled the others. “Yes, that one. His ramblings finally gave me the piece that I’ve been missing. I can cure him!”

_Looking down at the wan features of the teen lying unconscious on the bed, Sirius managed to choke back a sob. Falling apart would do Reggie no good. Not right now. At his side, his mum shook, holding back her own tears through sheer will._

_Reaching out, Sirius wrapped his arm around the other’s shoulders. Together, they shared in a moment of joint grief. Then, the Matriarch Black spoke._

_“I dosed him with the Draught of Living Death, Siri. He’s not dead. Not yet.” Walburga’s voice wavered. “When Kreacher brought him home, he was nearly incoherent with pain. His body was failing on so many levels. It was the only thing that I could think to do. The draught will keep him alive, if in stasis. That gives us time to find a cure.”_

_“But, why did he go? What was so important that he had to poison himself?” Sirius asked brokenly. His racing thoughts were full of confusion and upset._

_“You know that Regulus has been playing spy in the Death Eater ranks, of course,” Walburga asked._

_Sirius nodded, frowning. He hated that his little brother had been put into that position. Thankfully, the family had ensured that Regulus wasn’t required to commit atrocities like murder or rape. Instead, Reggie’s job with the Dark Wanker was more intellectual. He was employed as a researcher, one who had access to the expansive Black Libraries._

_“Thomas,” Walburga’s lip curled, showing her hatred of the Wizard, “Came to him one day, ordering him to give him one of our house-elves. That… man doesn’t understand the nature of our bonds with them. He intended the house-elf to be a slave, handed over for his vulgar purposes. Instead, Reggie used that man’s ignorance to his advantage. He ‘gave’ him Kreacher.”_

_Despite his grief, Sirius couldn’t help his bark of laughter. He knew that the old elf was wily enough to handle the job._

_Walburga nodded. “The brat told that old rascal to fake it for as long as he could stand; unless, of course, the slimy bastard ordered him to do something that would kill him. It turned out that the corrupt fool needed a sacrifice to help set up protections around one of his ‘treasures’.”_

_Sirius could hear the quotation marks that his mum put around the word ‘treasure’._

_“I’m still trying to determine exactly what that monster had Kreacher do. Whatever it was, the only reason Kreacher made it back alive was his bond with the Family.”_

_“And he went straight to Reggie, didn’t he?” Sirius asked, already knowing the answer._

_“Indeed. Of course, my beloved son couldn’t let any of the rest of us know what happened, could he,” she grumbled, anger temporarily overshadowing her grief. “No, the foolish child listened to Kreacher’s story. Then, like the Gryffindor he can sometimes be, he decided to act on his own. He would spring the Dark Lord’s trap and retrieve whatever hidden treasure was hidden inside. After all, who knew how long the man would leave his trap in place.”_

_Walking over to Regulus’ desk, Walburga fetched a curious silver box from its surface. The box was etched on all sides with a complex runic array. With just a glance, Sirius spotted sequences for protection and sealing, along with others he couldn’t begin to describe._

_Visibly bracing herself, Sirius’ mum opened the box. As she did so, Sirius took an almost involuntary step back. He could feel the dark aura emanating from the box. It was practically a physical force._

_Eventually, though, he managed to adjust to the frankly horrific miasma. Steeling himself, he looked inside. There, he glimpsed some kind of jewellery, set inside a nest of white silk. Before he could investigate further, Walbura snapped the lid closed._

_Both mother and son relaxed as the oppressive dark aura vanished._

_Walburga replaced the box on the desk. Then she turned back to her elder son. Seeing the horror that still broadcast across his face, she nodded. “Nasty isn’t it. The locket was the focus of the worst kind of Necromantic ritual. Its corruption was then enhanced by a truly ridiculous array of dark curses. That is Thomas’… treasure.”_

_“And Reggie?” Sirius asked hesitantly._

_“…Managed to retrieve it. According to Kreacher, my precious boy even created a facsimile good enough to fool a cursory inspection. He then replaced the object with his fake before he fell. My son would have been consumed...” Walburga placed her hand over her heart as she spoke, “by Inferi. And if they didn’t do him in, the vile draught that he had to consume to retrieve the locket would have done the job. Thankfully, Kreacher is both clever and loyal. Despite his own poor condition, he managed to bring both of them home.”_

_Having finished her tale, Walburga finally succumbed to her grief and fear. Throwing herself into her eldest’s arms, she allowed herself to cry._

Due to Regulus’ last orders to Kreacher, the Family Black had been unable to find a way back into the cave where the teen had nearly died. Instead, Orion, and later Severus, had spent years trying to develop an antidote without the actual poison on hand for testing. All they had to work with was the data collected from Kreacher, whose body had fought off the draught’s physical effects, and the few residual traces recovered from Regulus’ robes and body before stasis was initialized.

Meanwhile, the Family had spread word in public that the younger Heir had died, a measure intended to keep him safe from both sides of the conflict. For more than a decade, Regulus had laid in that same bed, in a locked room, in a well-Warded home, unaware and un-aging. Like a Princess from a fairy tale, he awaited the day when a cure could be found.

And now that day had finally arrived.

“Kreacher,” Sirius called, untangling himself from Severus and Remus. The loyal house-elf instantly popped into the room. “Go tell Mother she needs to come upstairs. Severus has some important news to share.”

“As many of you know, Dolores Umbridge has been a thorn in our side for some time. Until recently, however, she’s been little more than a minor nuisance. This is despite her particularly nasty version of blood prejudice,” Dorea Black Potter’s words were sharp from her seat by the fire.

The adult members of the Black Family were gathered for one of their infrequent strategy meetings. Together, they sat in the upstairs parlour of Grimmauld Place, enjoying a delightful tea service provided by the ever-hovering Kreacher.

“Of course, her actions against Harry have bumped her up on my agenda. To that end, I have begun to dig into the witch’s past. My focus was on how she has accumulated so much power while maintaining a frankly horrific public persona.”

“I can now say that I’ve solved the mystery,” Dorea added. She leaned back in her chair. “It can be summarized in one word… blackmail. Not of Fudge directly, though. From what my informants say, she is acutely loyal to the Minister. Instead, she has dirt on a surprising number of Peers and senior Ministry officials.”

“How?” Sirius asked. He was perched in the chair opposite his aunt, having gravitated to a spot that felt the fire’s warmth. A permanent sensitivity to cold was one of the consequences of his extended stay in Azkaban. “Is she perhaps a toad Animagus?”

The gathered Family laughed, even as Andromeda, seated in the chair beside Sirius, reached over and smacked him in the arm. “Now, Siri, I’m sure that’s an insult to amphibians everywhere,” she said with a grin. Her comment triggered another round of chuckles.

“In all seriousness, though,” Dorea went on. “While the Family is well versed in the power of Animagus-based spying, Dolores’ techniques are much more… sordid. You may have heard how Marcellus Umbridge ‘set aside’ his first wife when she failed to give him an heir. What isn’t as well known is that he didn’t just put her into seclusion; he cast her out into the street. Cynthia Barrow, with her young daughter at her side, was forced to scrounge for a living amongst the underbelly of the Wizarding World.”

“Unsurprisingly, with her weak Magic, minimal education, and physical beauty Cynthia was a prime candidate for the oldest of female professions. She found a position at one of the Knockturn Alley brothels, one that catered to Ministry employees and visitors. Dolores grew up in that environment, the pet of the various ‘ladies’, especially when she received a Hogwarts letter and, thanks to her estranged father’s money, was able to attend the school.”

“All those who patronized the brothel, or any of its neighbours, left themselves vulnerable to her strategies. And she certainly has taken advantage of that fact.”

“So that’s how she got that last creature bill passed,” Remus mused. He was across the room, tucked into a loveseat beside his indulgent husband. “I did wonder about some of those votes. You wouldn’t think that those Peers who have ownership in one or more businesses would want to open themselves up to the risk of prosecution. And really, forcing business owners to pay for their employees' indiscretions sets a nasty precedent, even if it’s just employees with creature blood or conditions for now.”

Dorea nodded, brushing a nearly invisible crumb off her robe. “Plus, I know of at least one Peer with creature blood who voted to pass the bill. His blood status is actually what Umbridge has on him, you see.” 

Cygnus Black, Andi’s father and current Black Proxy in the Wizengamut, nodded. He was a rare participant in these meetings due to his busy schedule, but given the topic, he had felt that it was important for him to be present. He expanded upon her comment further. “There have already been rumours going around the Wizengamut that she has plans for Hogwarts. It appears that she is trying for Dumbledore levels of influence.”

There were snorts from multiple people. “A Unicorn willingly supporting the Dark Wanker would be more likely,” Dorea said, scoffing.

“Yes, but she could certainly do damage to the children while trying,” her niece reminded her.

Severus spoke up. “So far the students’ strategy of tag-teaming detentions has prevented a repeat of the attempt on Harry. However, she has not endeared herself to any of the younger generation with her ham-handed moves. Even those among my Slytherins who agree with her opinions dislike her.”

“I brought the evidence that Harry collected from his detention to Madame Bones,” Tonks contributed. She was still dressed in her crimson Auror robes, having come straight from work. “She agreed to start a file. Then she told me that I could investigate the matter in my free time. However, she did warn me that it would take something more drastic to get a successful conviction given ‘her influence’. I assume that the Director is aware of at least some of what Aunt Dorea uncovered?”

“Yes, and she also despises the woman,” Lucretia Black Prewitt nodded from her own corner, where she practically merged with the shadows in her dark robe. When several eyes looked in her direction, the elderly witch explained. “As two of the rare women in senior positions at the Ministry, we have lunch together on a regular basis. It’s our chance to trade information while gossiping and bitching about our colleagues. Plus, it makes for wonderful stress relief. Amelia has a turn of phrase and skill for verbally eviscerating her opponents that is just… beautiful.”

“While you’re already speaking, how is the examination of the ring going?” Sirius asked.

“Well, the good news is that measurements confirm what we expected from our Arithmancy calculations. It is definitely the second Horcrux that the undead bastard made. I’ve already had it immolated in the Department’s Fiendfyre furnace after we ‘killed’ it in the venom bath. Curiously, while the main bulk of the ring was destroyed, the large black stone in the setting was not. With the Necromantic contamination removed, my team has uncovered traces of true Death Magic present. Since it bears the mark of the Peverells, we think it may even be the fabled Resurrection Stone or at least an artefact whose creation was inspired by the tale.”

“Only one more to go, then, and it’s the weakest one besides Harry’s old scar,” Sirius said with a sharp grin. “Sev, any new ideas of what it might be?”

“Cissa informed me that when the Dork… ahem,” Severus grinned when Sirius, Tonks, and most of the others chuckled. “Dark Lord found out about the Diary from her husband, he made her hit Lucius with a dose of the Cruciatus. Afterward, the only thing he asked about was the status of Bella’s vault.”

The gathered Black Family members exchanged grim smiles. The cup had been dealt with the year before, thanks to the secrets that Bellatrix had accidentally spilled to Sirius while screaming at him during their joint stay in Azkaban. Of course, the madwoman had no idea that she’d failed her ‘beloved Lord’, so there was no danger of revealing the Family’s plan that way. 

“Unfortunately, despite her best efforts, Lucius’ failures have decreased Riddle’s trust in the Malfoys. That means that her ability to gather information has been curtailed. But… ‘Cissa is keeping her ears open.”

On and on the Family meeting went. The Black Family continued to make progress in their agenda with an efficiency that, had they known, both ‘Dark’ and ‘Light’ Lords would have envied.


	18. Letter Interlude: Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The degradation of Bellatrix Black's sanity reaches new depths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sirius' letter here is short, only requiring two images to portray. As ever, the images are followed by the letter text.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

January 24th, 1974

Dear Mum,

I’m worried about Cousin Bella. Ever since we got back from break, she’s been more and more aggressive about her hatred of ‘Mudbloods’.

According to Reg and Sev, her and her posse have taken to holding ‘secret’ meetings in the Slytherin common room and talking about the ‘Dark Lord’. They’ve also been hexing the Muggleborns and Half-bloods, and even some of the Light purebloods, whenever they can get away with it.

If they were harmless pranks like the competition that Sev and I have, it would be one thing. It’s not. People are ending up in the infirmary, and the hexes I’ve seen have gotten increasingly Dark. They’ve not done anything illegal yet, but it’s only a matter of time.

I know Bella’s pissed about Andi’s decision last year, especially given the news about her new daughter, but she’s lost any sense of control. I think she’s close to tipping over into the full Black Madness.

I believe that she’s not going to be able to follow the instructions of Lord Black and be the family’s ‘spy’ in the ‘Dark Lord’s camp. 

Fortunately, Sev is still willing to represent House Black as our mole. He’s been more active in cosying up to that group without doing anything too dramatic outside of the Slytherin dorms. I also know ‘Cissa’s been keeping tabs on Bella, especially since she’s the one who got stuck with the Malfoy contract after Andi ran off with her Muggleborn.

You know, even though we’re supposed to be estranged, I’m still officially Heir Black. Is there something public or private that I should do about Bella’s behaviour? Or do you have a suggestion for how I should parlay current events in my role as ‘the White Sheep of House Black’?

Sirius


	19. The Hallowe'en Curse Strikes Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Harry's latest Halloween (Samhain) is spoiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Mortuus Est Dies is my own creation, if heavily influenced by the traditions of Dia de los Muertos. I really love the idea of death being a crossing over into a different world, one from which it is possible to visit under the right circumstances.
> 
> Also, I figured that if I was redeeming Death Eaters, why not include one more. Even if it ended in tragedy.

Since he was a kid, Harry had always had a complicated relationship with Halloween, or more correctly, Samhain.

On the one hand, his first parents, James and Lily Potter, had died on that particular date back in 1981. Over the years the date had also become a day of remembrance for those lost in the War, including many of the older Blacks and Potters. Even Uncle Reggie was remembered; though he was technically still alive, he was nevertheless included in the mourning litany.

However, the Blacks' traditional Samhain celebration was something special. It was what made the night’s ritual practice a favourite from a very young age. 

For the Family Black, Samhain was intrinsically linked with the Rite of _Mortuus est Dies._ A powerful Death Magic ritual linked to the Mundane tradition of _Dia de los Muertos_ , the Day of the Dead, the Rite had been handed down from the Family Black’s Roman ancestors.

If performed correctly, just before sunset on Samhain night, the most remarkable thing happened. From that sunset, until the next sunrise, the Veil of Death was temporarily parted. In that time, the Rite’s practitioners would be reunited with those who had passed on.

There were, of course, limitations to the Rite.

For one, the Rite, generally known by the family as the ‘Mort’, had to be performed on blessed ground. Only those buried on said blessed ground would be allowed to visit. Besides, only those who were on hand for the start of the Rite would be able to see their loved ones.

Now the Blacks were not the only one who practiced the ‘Mort’. Through the generations of inter-breeding, the practice had spread through much of the British Wizarding community. It was for this reason that the Blacks, and many other purebloods, interred their dead in a shared Family crypt. When the Rite was performed, all those interred in a shared crypt were eligible to cross over together. 

With the yearly practice of the ‘Mort’, Harry had built ties to his ancestors on both the Potter and Black sides. Grandpa Orion, Uncle Charlus, Grandma Phee, Grandpa Monty, and a host of others had all come to visit with their still-living descendants. 

Sadly, Harry had never gotten to meet Dad James and Mum Lily in this way.

The Potters’ internment was yet another bone of contention between the Family and Dumbledore. In the aftermath of Voldemort’s defeat, the old goat had arranged for the Potters to be buried in the public cemetery in Godric’s Hollow. Not only that, but he had declared the funeral a public affair, allowing the beloved Witch and Wizard to be buried in a Muggle manner.

What should have happened was for Dorea Black Potter – the well-known Potter Proxy – to take custody of the bodies. She would have interred them with all of the appropriate rites, in heart of the Potter Family crypt. As such, they would then have been able to cross over when the Rite was performed.

Instead, none of the Family had been able to honour their heroic fallen relations with a visit on Samhain. The Godric’s Hollow cemetery was too public, and too Muggle, for such things to be possible. No one wanted to risk what would happen if the Muggles spotted such a ‘demonic’ ritual. Besides, it was common for Wizarding tourists to visit the cemetery on Samhain – it was even part of a public tour!

Harry dreamed that one-day things would change. If only the Family could get the right leverage – and remove Dumbledore from power – then they could finally restore James and Lily Potter to their rightful home in the Potter Crypt.

Upon his arrival at Hogwarts, Harry found that Samhain had become important for a very different reason. It seemed that the day was cursed. Every year since his first, something important happened on ‘Halloween’. And it was always something directly connected to Harry.

His first year, the possessed Quirrelmort had made an attempt on the Philosopher’s Stone. The fool had sent a Mountain Troll out into Hogwarts’ corridors as a distraction for the staff. Harry had had the misfortune of encountering it while searching for his soon-to-be friend Hermione.

Then, in his second year, Samhain was the first night that the Riddle-controlled basilisk had attacked. She had claimed her first victim, Mrs. Norris, and Harry had been blamed.

The third year was a bit different. That year, there wasn’t a threat, per se. Instead, Sirius deliberately caused a scene in the Gryffindor dorms in an attempt to demonstrate to Fudge that the Dementors were useless as guards over the school. This was after the incident on the Quidditch pitch, where the monsters attempted to Kiss Harry in the midst of gameplay.

Of course, last year was the Triwizard Champion announcement. No need to say any more there…

Thus, it was with a well-founded feeling of trepidation that Harry dressed and made his way downstairs for breakfast on that particular morning.

As a precaution, he had loaded his satchel with extra gear: his communications mirror, snacks and water, a full med kit including a bezoar, and the ritual athame that His Gran Dorea had given him on his birthday.

Sure enough, when the day’s Daily Prophet arrived with the morning post-owl delivery, the Hall came alive with whispers. Two headlines battled it out for the top spot on the Prophet’s cover.

One read: **MINISTRY OF MAGIC APPOINTS DOLORES UMBRIDGE AS ‘HOGWARTS HIGH INQUISITOR’**

A quick skim of the article below the headline was all that Harry needed to understand the situation. The Ministry was using their attacks against Dumbledore as an excuse to ‘overhaul the Hogwarts curriculum’. Umbridge had been charged with ‘evaluating all aspects of Hogwarts in an effort to improve our students’ education and future success’.

_That should be fun…_ Harry thought sarcastically.

Then he moved on to the headline that had a more immediate impact. That headline shifted to the top of the paper when Harry finished reading the first article. It read: **MASS BREAKOUT AT AZKABAN PRISON**

According to the article, several former Death Eaters, including Harry’s ‘cousin’ Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband and brother-in-law, had been retrieved from the prison by ‘Wizards or Witches unknown’.

The article attributed the breakout to ‘the cadre of Foreign Wizards who had attacked our beloved Boy Saviour, Harry Potter, back in June’. Harry guessed that this was technically accurate, as the breakout was likely executed by Tom and his followers.

Having skimmed both articles, Harry then went back to the top of the paper. He re-read the articles with greater care, focusing on the details and attempting to separate fact from the paper’s hyperbole.

While Harry read, he could feel numerous eyes staring at him. No doubt, the reference to his ‘title’ had put him once more in the spotlight. With a sigh, Harry folded up the paper, tucking it into his bag for additional examination later. Then he began to serve himself breakfast. No matter what happened the rest of the day, he needed to get something into his stomach. 

As he filled a plate with eggs and bangers, as well as a substantial helping of sweetened porridge, Ginny leaned over from her seat beside him.

“Did you see the look on Umbridge’s face?” she asked. “It looks like the toad is trapped between smugness at her new title and fury at the breakout for usurping her moment of triumph.”

With a quick glance, Harry noted that his little sis was right. The Umbitch looked constipated; like she had made the mistake of trying to eat Aunt Petunia’s baking. Harry shuddered at the thought. Even if he had only had to stay with his mother’s relatives for brief periods to maintain the blood protection, and then only with supervision, he still hated thinking about the sour hag.

“Oh, Merlin’s bloody… you have her class today, don’t you?” he asked Ginny.

“Yup,” she said cheerfully, “the fourth year Gryff/Puff DADA class is first thing this morning.”

“Don’t worry,” she went on when he seemed about to comment. “We’ve got an excellent system in place for dealing with her. Luckily, no one in the class is a particular target, so all we had to do was set a few switching spells on the books and we can work on other things while she thinks we’re ‘reading’. “

“Well,” Harry hesitated, “if you’re sure.”

“Yup.”

“Just remember,” he went on as she echoed him, “Detention buddies are the best buddies.” They both laughed.

“Besides,” George called from where he and Fred sat further down, “if pinkie tries anything, as Gin-Gin’s big brothers it’s our job to take care of it, not yours.” He gave a grin to show he wasn’t dissing Harry, just reminding the younger teen that he wasn’t the only one who could handle things.

All throughout the day, it seemed that all anyone could talk about was the breakout. As Harry walked through the halls, he heard snatches of conversation about the various escapees. Students were trading stories about the crimes carried out by the various people on the list. Some of the older students expressed concern that Hogwarts would be stuck with Dementors again.

That idea made Harry shudder. He was sure that the Family could prevent the return of the wraiths, but even so… His nightmares were bad enough as it was these days.

It was shortly after lunch that Harry’s temper finally snapped. Between the stares, the whispers, and his own nightmarish thoughts, he couldn’t take it anymore. It wasn’t as if Binns would have noticed them leaving early, anyways.

Grabbing Neville, who looked to be in the same condition, he charged out of the History of Magic classroom like a Niffler with a pouch full of stolen gold. Together, they headed for the Room of Requirement, hurrying to beat the crowds that filled the halls during class transitions.

After a spot of abbreviated pacing, the door appeared, and they headed inside. Given the criteria Harry had fed the enchantment, he knew that the door would disappear behind them, keeping anyone else from disturbing the pair.

The room that Harry had conjured up was a combination training room and lounge, with a pair of comfortable sofas in one corner of the room and a mirrored gallery with a handful of Magical training dummies in the other.

Dumping his satchel on one of the sofas, Harry immediately headed towards the dummies. Activating one, he proceeded to use it for target practice, firing off a multitude of charms and hexes at the swiftly moving figure. He cast everything from the basics: _expelliarmus, lumos, wingardium leviosa_ , to more complex: _bombarda_ , _levicorpus, glacius._ Pretty much anything that he could think of that had a physical effect eventually popped up in Harry’s recitation.

Finally, though, Harry had blown off enough energy to calm himself down. Only then did he turn back towards the other side of the room. There, Neville sat on one of the sofas with his head back and his eyes closed.

To the casual observer, he appeared relaxed, but Harry could read the stress in his godbrother’s shoulders.

“Nev?” he said quietly, making his way over. “You okay there?”

Without opening his eyes or otherwise moving, Neville replied. “Not great, but this helps, thanks. I just keep hearing their names and flashing back to that night.”

Like Harry, the Longbottom Heir struggled from nightmares due to the attack on his family when he was a baby. During the Year of the Dementors, he had also begun to remember his parents’ last lucid moments, including their screams while under the Cruciatus. Even worse, along with those memories had come the nightmare of hearing Bellatrix Lestrange’s psychotic giggle and her in-laws’ demanding questions in between the screams.

Neville had managed to move past some of it the previous year thanks to the tag-team of Barty Crouch and Mad-eye Moody. After the disastrous class where Barty demonstrated the Unforgivables on spiders, he had pulled the boy aside. Having received permission from Augusta, Barty had told the boy the truth about the evening of the attack.

Barty had been Regulus Black’s best friend before his ‘death’ – his partner in spying on the Dark for the Family. Thanks to his skills in tracking and disguise, Barty had been assigned by Voldemort to serve on a team with the Lestrange trio. That meant that when the Dark Wizard was defeated, Barty was stuck undercover at the Lestrange Estate. So, when his insane ‘partners’ decided to attack the Longbottoms for information, he only found out at the last minute.

The best Barty could do was send off a Patronus message to his Aunt Lucretia, his Family contact, and hope that she could marshal the Aurors before anyone died. During the attack, he did manage to protect Neville from the evil trio. Rabastan especially would have had no compunctions about harming the boy in an attempt to gain information from the parents. In the end, he was unable to prevent the damage done to Frank and Alice, though he did ensure that the Lestranges were apprehended.

It was that brief period, where Barty held Neville in his arms trying to shield the boy from witnessing the attack on his parents, that the Longbottom Heir heard when the Dementors came calling.

Tragically, Barty, who had become a mentor to Neville during his year of teaching, had been Kissed by Fudge’s Dementors back in June. The entire Family Black had been horrified, obviously. They had been setting the man up to reclaim his role as a spy after Voldemort’s ‘resurrection’. Instead, the Family lost yet another member to the horrors of war.

And now, the Lestranges had escaped, rendering the sacrifices of Neville’s parents and surrogate older brother meaningless. On top of that, he was hearing people discuss the messy affair in the corridors and classrooms. He was not doing well at all.

Harry claimed a seat beside his godbrother. He knew that the other boy needed a different kind of comfort than he himself preferred. The pair sat for a while, taking comfort in each other’s presence, without saying a word. Sometimes, a little quiet mourning for what was lost was best.

Eventually, though, Harry spoke. “You know, they wouldn’t want you dwelling on things. Instead, we need a plan.”

“Okay,” Neville said, his voice hesitant. He had participated in enough of Harry’s plans to know how that could go. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well… Think about it this way, now that they’re out in the open, you can attack those monsters without getting in trouble. So, what do we do when we need to know how to take out powerful Dark Witches and Wizards?”

“Research. We head to the library,” Neville chorused the last bit with Harry, channelling Hermione. If the girl was Harry’s James, and Ron was his Peter, then Neville was Remus, the quiet back up. And like Sirius and Remus, together Harry and Neville could handle almost anything, even the worst monsters.


	20. Letter Interlude: Debts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius explains the truth of the 'werewolf' incident to his mum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This letter interlude is a bit different, as it actually contains two letters. The first is the usual (if long enough to be broken into four parts) Sirius one, while the second is an 'Official Hogwarts Correspondance'.  
> As always, the images are followed by the plain text versions.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

April 26th, 1975

Dear Mum,

I’m enclosing a copy of the letter that Father will be receiving from Dumbledore about last night, but I wanted to give you the real story as well. You will need to have a plan for how the family outside Hogwarts should react to the news.

Okay, so, if you haven’t been paying attention, last night was a full moon night.

As you know, Lupin’s a werewolf. He’s also a sneaky bas… I mean, clever friend. He managed to figure out that Sev and I are actually friends and our ‘rivalry’ is a cover a while ago. He totally would have been a Slytherin if it weren’t for the werewolf thing (apparently his ‘bravery’ in coming to Hogwarts despite the risks as a werewolf put him over the top on that front).

Anyways, he and Sev have become friends as well (don’t tell Sev I said this, but I’m thinking there’s a bit of a crush as well).

Because of this, I offered to help Sev become an animagus. He finally nailed it a few weeks ago: panther, and gorgeous one at that. Anyways, he wanted a chance to introduce his panther to Remus’s wolf (Moony), so I told him how to get into the shack.

Meanwhile, I had to convince Jamie and Peter that we shouldn’t stay with Remus that night. In the process, I inadvertently let it slip that someone else would be visiting. Jamie, being the innocent sod that he is, took my comment to mean that I was using Remus to scare someone.

He charged off ‘to the rescue’. Upon finding Sev in the tunnel leading up to the Shack, Jamie held him off until after the full moon rose and Remus transformed. At that point, both of them could hear Moony howling at the trap door. To keep his cover, Severus acted shocked and went along with Jamie’s claim about me.

At the same time, Peter went scampering off to get a teacher (McGonagall). Then we were brought to Dumbledore’s office. There James and Peter informed him what happened, or their version anyways.

Now Dumbledore believes that he has ‘blackmail’ over me since I used a ‘Dark Creature’ as a weapon and he ‘covered it up’. He also thinks that Sev owes James a life debt (giving him blackmail over Sev). He used the life debt to demand that Sev keep Remus’ secret.

As for punishment, I’ve got detention for the rest of the year, lost my Hogsmeade privileges and place on the Quidditch team for the year (which sucks, by the way), and he ‘wrote my parents’ (see enclosed letter).

The fact that I’m not getting suspended or expelled for ‘attempted murder’ gives Sev a tool to increase our ‘rivalry’. Sev’s planning to use my ‘attack’ on him and Dumbledore’s mild punishment as his ticket into the inner circle of the Hogwarts followers of Voldemort. He’s also going to have Reg ‘tell you the whole story’, so you should ramp up your disapproval (I’m thinking… HOWLER?).

As Sherlock Holmes once said, ‘the game’s afoot.’

Sirius

* * *

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Mr. Black,

I am writing to inform you of an incident which occurred at Hogwarts this week.

Your son Sirius played a vicious prank on one of his Slytherin classmates, using a dangerous Dark Creature as his weapon. His actions could have resulted in the boy’s death or permanent injury.

As such, he has received punishment here at school, including detention and removal from the Gryffindor Quidditch team. However, in the spirit of second chances, I have chosen not to pass information about the incident on to the DMLE. I have allowed him to remain a student at Hogwarts.

Should he continue to behave in such a reckless manner, he could end up hurting his chances of a future. Thus, I leave it in your hands, as his father to decide whether to take any further action as punishment for his poor decision-making skills.

Sincerely,

Headmaster

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Order of Merlin, First Class

Grand Sorcerer

Chief Warlock of the Wizengamut

Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards


	21. On the Flip Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events of Samhain from Sirius' perspective, including an actual practice of the Mortuus est Dies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is happening mostly in parallel with the previous one.

“Mutt,” Severus’ Patronus messenger woke the Animagus from a sound sleep. He blinked bleary eyes as the vision continued. “The Dark Lord has ordered all of us out on a mission to facilitate an Azkaban breakout. Peter just managed to steal Fudge’s Dementor controller, so all we have to deal with is the human guards. He gave us no advanced notice; we’re going in now. I need you to notify the Order and arrange a heads up to the DMLE.”

With its message delivered, the silvery doe faded from view. Sitting bolt upright, Sirius grabbed the robe hanging from his bedpost. Throwing it on over his pyjamas, he called for Kreacher as he rushed across the hall. Throwing Remus’ bedroom door open he shouted.

“Wake up, Moony, wake up!”

Like Sirius, it took Remus a moment to awaken, but once he did, he went straight into crisis mode.

“Right, I hope it’s something important or I’m going to kill you for waking me up,” he moaned as he grabbed his wand and robe.

“Sadly, this isn’t the fun kind of wake-up call,” Sirius replied as he led the other Wizard out of the room, collecting Kreacher, who popped in dressed in his own nightclothes. “Sev just sent word, Azkaban’s under attack – or is about to be anyways. We need to alert everyone.”

The news eliminated any residual sleepiness in Remus’ eyes.

“Mordred wept, Sirius. What do you want from me?”

“DMLE? If you can send word to Moody, Shacklebolt, and Nymie, I’ll deal with Dumbledore.” Sirius gave a wry smile.

“No problem.”

“And Kreacher, you’re to inform the Family, starting with Aunt Dorea, then Andi and Cygnus, and then the rest. I assume ‘Cissa is already in the know, and you know Bella and her ‘beloveds’ will be involved.”

“Yes, Dog Master,” Kreacher nodded, disappearing with a pop.

“I kinda hope he forgets to change,” Remus joked as the pair threw on the closest sets of robes, and headed for different Floos.

“Despite the circumstances, the sight of Kreacher in Father’s old nightshirt is epic,” Sirius agreed.

Remus laughed as he headed down to the Family Floo access point. He would head to Tonks’ apartment first, as she was least likely of the trio to have her Floo locked to him. Meanwhile, Sirius was headed down to the main access point on the ground floor. He could Floo from there to Hogsmeade in Padfoot form, and then run to the castle.

Knowing Dumbledore, it was the only sure way to get the Old Man to respond. If Sirius sent a Patronus or other messenger, Dumbledore was likely to delay a response until it was too late.

Calling out his destination – “Hog’s Head Pub” – Sirius leaped through the Floo, transforming into Padfoot as he did so. He emerged into a dark and grimy pub, startling the few lingering customers. After all, seeing a Grim was not the usual thing, even in the Wizarding World.

Abe, over at the counter, was nonplussed. He merely snorted and went back to rubbing the counter with a cloth as Padfoot sped past. The old goat- ehm… lover was one of the few outside the Family that the Marauders had trusted with their Animagus status in school.

Padfoot ran through the darkened streets and up the path to Hogwarts’ front gate, once again bemoaning the limits placed by Hogwarts Wards. If only the Old Man hadn’t been so thorough in limiting Floo access to his office, Sirius would already be there.

Fortunately, the moment Sirius crossed the Ward line, a flash of light and fire signalled company. Fawkes, apparently more watchful than his human at this time of night, had sensed Sirius’ arrival.

Landing on the gate, he eyed Padfoot as if to say ‘turn back, idiot.’

Snorting, Sirius followed the silent direction.

Immediately, Fawkes flew down and landed on the Wizard’s shoulder, his claws digging in as he flashed them directly to the Headmaster’s office.

Seconds later, Dumbledore poked his head out of the door that led to his living space. He was dressed for sleep, in robes that were even more brightly coloured and decorated than his day robes. For a moment, Sirius had to blink his eyes to avoid going blind.

When the Headmaster cleared his throat impatiently, Sirius recalled himself, and spoke. “Severus sent a message. There’s an attack going on right now at Azkaban. Remus already went to alert the DMLE using our Order members in the department, but I knew you would need an immediate heads up as well.”

“Aahh, thank you, my dear boy,” Dumbledore took a seat behind his desk and gestured Sirius towards a chair on the opposite side. He was moving as if there wasn’t any need to hurry.

“I will certainly have the others investigate,” he said almost casually.

Taking up quill and ink, he wrote down a brief message, and, with the wave of his wand, made several copies before handing the entire packet to the hovering Fawkes.

“You know where these go, don’t you, my dear,” Dumbledore said as he tapped the phoenix lightly under the chin. With a short trill and a nod, the bird disappeared in the usual flare of light and fire that once again had Sirius blinking in an attempt to restore his sight.

“Now then, my dear boy, you really must be getting back. It wouldn’t do for you to be arrested by those hunting for the latest escapees.”

Sirius agreed politely, while internally rolling his eyes. He knew Dumbledore’s game; to make Sirius feel useless so that he’ll behave recklessly. This would reinforce the idea that he’s not a good option as the Guardian of the-boy-who-lived. Nevertheless, Sirius was wise to the manipulation and refused to be baited.

Instead, he headed back to Grimmauld Place, where Dorea and Cygnus were doubtless already gathered. They would be planning damage control. The breakout would no doubt remind the Wizarding public of Bellatrix’s crimes and the skeletons in the Black Family closet.

It was late the next morning, October 31st, when Tonks finally made it back to the house to give the Family gathered there an update.

“Well,” she told Sirius and the others, “Riddle and the others, including Uncle Lucius,” here Tonks made a face, “managed to successfully extract Aunt Bella, her husband and brother-in-law, Dolohov, Travers, Rookwood, and a couple of others.”

She held up a finger when the others were about to comment. “However, we did catch a break. We managed to apprehend a couple of the attackers as well as stop further escapees. Early on, Mad-eye managed to spot the Rat, who had apparently been tasked with doing extraction while everyone else battled the Aurors. He hit Pettigrew with the Animagus reversal hex, followed by a stunner. Then Kingsley hit Walden Macnair, who had been put in charge of the Dementor controller, with another stunner near the end of the battle. That loss enabled the DMLE to use the controller that belongs to the Department and stop the beasts’ attack.”

“Without the command of the Dementors, Tommy-boy’s forces had to retreat, leaving those who had been stunned behind.”

“Then…” Sirius held his breath, “Does that mean that the rat is in custody?”

Tonks made a face. “Well… sort of… Unfortunately, during the chaos, he was hit with a slashing hex and… um… bled out before anyone noticed. His body is in custody, though, which is definitive proof that there’s something hinky about Siri’s original arrest.”

Dorea Black Potter tapped her finger on her lips as she thought. “I can work with that. I am on the record as one of Sirius’ guardians from the period after the falling out with Walburga. We can use that to pursue a proper trial without blowing our cover. I’ll just tell people that I was visiting my cousin Cygnus when Nymphadora stopped by to inform him of his daughter’s escape from Azkaban.”

Remus, who had, like Sirius, returned to Grimmauld Place after spreading the news of the attack, reached over and hugged his friend.

“Let me handle Dumbles. I’ll convince him that having you free is a good thing for his cause given the escapees. We can use the danger of Bella accessing Black properties if you don’t officially claim them in the eyes of the Ministry as leverage.”

Everyone smiled at his words. While technically that was somewhat true, the Ministry had no actual say in the matter. Sirius had informally claimed the position of Lord Black after old Arcturus’ death and then the Family had held the formal claiming ceremony at Castle Noir shortly after his ‘escape’ from Azkaban back in ’93. Still, no one outside the Family and their allies was aware of that fact.

“Excellent idea, Remus dear,” Dorea agreed. “Between the pair of us,” she gave a sharp smile, “and Cygnus as the leader of the ‘opposition’, we should have Sirius’ free by the New Year.”

That night, the Family gathered in joy and sorrow to celebrate the _Mortuus est Dies_ at two separate crypts. Dorea, craving time with her husband and willing to celebrate with her in-laws, headed over to the Potter crypt. Remus joined her since he was closer to his ‘Uncle Monty’, ‘Aunt Phee’, and ‘Uncle Charlus’ than most of the deceased Blacks.

Sirius, on the other hand, led the group at the Black crypt. He was joined there by Andi and her family, Lucretia, Cygnus, and surprising everyone, ‘Cissa. He supposed that the witch had used her husband’s distraction with visitors to join her real Family for the special night.

The moment that the Rite was completed and spirit forms began to appear, Sirius headed straight for his parents. This was the first chance that Sirius had had to participate in the ‘Mort’ since leaving Azkaban, and thus the first time that he’d seen his mum since her death.

“Mum,” he breathed, greeting Walburga’s shade, before turning and bowing to Orion. “Father. I have so much to tell you. But, before anything else… He found it!”

Unlike most Wizards believed, the dead were not omnipresent and couldn’t see everything that was happening out in the world. Instead, those who had passed on were stuck waiting for the newly dead to update them on current events. It was with those new arrivals, and through Rites such as the one Sirius had just performed, that the deceased learned of important circumstances in their still-living family’s lives.

For a moment Walburga’s shade looked confused, and then her eyes widened. She grabbed her husband’s arm as she glanced around.

“No, not yet, but soon,” Sirius finished, knowing where his mother’s thoughts had gone. “Reg is still in the coma, but Sev’s finally managed to determine the missing piece. He’s brewing an antidote now, with help from a few talented young men, and it should be ready around Yule.”

Now Orion had caught on, and he wrapped his arm around Walburga, giving his elder son a proud smile. “That is excellent news, my son, thank you for telling us.”

The trio gossiped over the latest news, including the Family’s plans, rejoiced over Pettigrew, grieved over Barty, and cheered at Dumbledore’s recent misfortunes.

“You really are looking quite well, despite your stay in that awful prison,” Walburga commented at one point, eyeing her son’s lanky frame. “Still, you do need to eat more, you’re too skinny.”

The comment made Sirius burst out laughing. The fact that his mum’s words were the same as Molly Weasley’s, who the older woman had disliked since the first time they met through Lucretia, was priceless.

Of course, his outburst of laughter required explanation. This led to stories about the summer at Grimmauld. Both Walburga and Orion enjoyed hearing about the prank wars, and Orion found the stories about Walburga’s portrait self’s actions especially hilarious.

“You always did like using the old place to torment visitors,” he teased.

“I only wish we could be the ones there,” Walburga agreed with a touch of melancholy.

“I know. I don’t regret my choice, especially as it has kept you alive despite everything, but I do regret losing the chance to really know my children as adults,” Orion agreed. “I really am so proud of all of you boys, even if none of you are my own direct blood.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Sirius said, using the casual term for once. He knew that his father, despite his natural reticence, had cared deeply for his children in life, and continued to do so in death.

Over the course of the night, the Blacks, both living and dead, rejoiced in the opportunity to renew their bonds as the living told tales of their accomplishments since the last time they’d visited.

At one point, Sirius found himself standing off to the side of the gathering with ‘Cissa as her father regaled the deceased Blacks with the tale of Harry’s Hearing in August.

“So how’d you manage to get away?” he asked softly. “Don’t you have some… unfortunate visitors… right now?”

Narcissa Black Malfoy, ever the elegant Lady, gave a derisive sniff and tilted her chin up slightly. “The day that I can’t manage to distract that bunch, is the day I surrender my title as Matriarch. I simply told Bella that I was going to inform Mother’s shade of the good news. You know that she always was Mother’s favourite, as that is how she got away with so much when we were children.”

“Fair enough, I guess,” he shrugged.

“So, Rosier crypt, then?”

Narcissa raised a single blonde brow. Indeed, she seemed to say without a word. Given that Cygnus and Druella Black’s marriage had been cordial at best when she was alive, it had been of no surprise to anyone that she ended back with her birth family in death. After all, her favourite daughter was expecting to be interred in the Lestrange crypt, so it wasn’t as if using her married family’s crypt would bring them closer anyways.

“What are you going to tell her when you return?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“It’s private. I will assure her that Mother is pleased, and that our Rosier ancestors are distressed that I am the only one who has managed to birth a son, but that otherwise, what was spoken was ‘None. Of. Her. Business.’ You know she really only responds to firm handling, and trust me, from what I’ve seen today Azkaban has just made it worse.”

Narcissa shuddered delicately. “The Dark Lord ordered her punished with the Cruciatus and the woman,” she cleared her throat, “enjoyed it.”

Sirius barked a laugh. “She got off on it, you mean.”

Narcissa gave a reluctant nod.

“Yeah, she wouldn’t shut up about how ‘powerful’ her beloved Lord’s ‘wand’ was when we shared a corridor, used to give me nightmares.”

With a final glare, Narcissa walked away, going to greet her eldest sister and family, just as Cygnus wrapped up his own storytelling.

By the time that the pre-dawn light appeared in the East and the spirits of the dead began to fade, the Family had exhausted themselves talking and visiting. As Walburga’s shade paled, losing coherency, she gave her son one final word.

“Sirius, do not get so caught up in Family business that you forget to live. Enjoy Yule, and give my grandson our love.”

“Farewell, Mum,” Sirius replied with a wave, watching the last hint of otherworldly presence disappear.

The Night for the Dead was over, now it was back to the land of the living. 


	22. Letter Interlude: Disguises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of certain events from the end of Sirius' fifth year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, letter images are followed by the plain text version.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

June 21st, 1975

Dear Mum,

The family’s plan for my ‘punishment’ is absolutely BRILLIANT!

I can’t wait to spend the summer with Aunt Cassie. Her reputation as a staid old spinster who is a bit of a shut-in is the perfect punishment for a rowdy teen.

Her ‘secret’ job as an Unspeakable aside, I’ve wanted to find the time to delve deeper into the Black family magic forever. Really, since James started telling me about the Potter lore while we were working on our animagus transformations. Being ‘isolated’ with no contact with my friends will certainly help. Of course, Remus and Sev, who know the truth about April, have already arranged with Reg to pass letters to me.

James and Peter are still mad at me, of course, but have been commiserating and spreading the word of my misfortune throughout Gryffindor. Between them, Cissa, and Reg, I think the whole school knows my ‘fate’.

As a finale to the year, to tie everything up in a neat bow, Sev and I decided to use the post OWL relaxation time to demonstrate our hatred in public. Using James and his jealousy of Sev’s friendship with Lily Evans as a foil, I got him hexed and tormented (just kiddy stuff really, like impedimenta and scourgify).

To my initial surprise, he used the ‘attack’ to scare off Lily by calling her a ‘Mudblood’ in public. I found out later that it was planned between them as a way to fortify his cover with the ‘Dark Lord’s followers. She’s actually part of our Hogwarts network, like Remus and Reg, oh and Cissa too.

Sev and Lily’s families live near each other, so they can spend time together over the summer without risking his cover.

It’s kind of ironic that James sees Sev as such a threat to his romance with Lily. The truth is that Sev is gay and crushing on Remus. He and Lily are more like siblings than anything else.

Now that I’ve spilled a bit of adolescent drama for you, is there anything else that I should be handling while I’m at Aunt Cassie’s besides complaining in public and studying in private?

Blessed Solstice,

Sirius Black

_Toujours Pur_


	23. Visions of the Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The toad's assaults increase and a Vision leads to an early Yule departure for Harry and the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The later part of this chapter pulls directly from canon events.

It had now been several weeks since the events of Hallowe’en, and things were both better and worse for Harry and the rest.

On the good news side, the discovery of Peter Pettigrew’s recently deceased body on site in the aftermath of the Azkaban mass breakout had altered perceptions regarding Sirius. Now, instead of declaring his Kiss-on-Sight status, the posters up around the desks of Kingsley Shacklebolt and the other Aurors in his team read:

**_‘Sirius Black: Wanted for questioning in regards to the events of Oct-Nov 1981 and his successful escape from Azkaban Prison in 1993’_ **

Meanwhile, Amelia had assigned Senior Auror Rufus Scrimgeour, who had been Sirius’ Auror Mentor back in the day, a thankless but necessary task. He was to review all of Bartemius Crouch Senior’s actions as head of the DMLE during the latter part of the war and its aftermath. Having been tipped off to the discrepancies in Sirius’ original incarceration, as well as his actions with Barty Jr, she was concerned that their fates were just the tip of the iceberg.

In these efforts, Minister Fudge proved to be a surprising help. He saw it as an opportunity to make the previous Administration look bad; distracting people from his own Administration’s mistakes.

However, things at Hogwarts were far tenser. After her disappointment when the announcement of her position was overshadowed by the breakout, Umbridge had launched her ‘investigation’ of Hogwarts with a bang.

Whenever she wasn’t teaching, she was ‘inspecting’ the rest of the staff. This included sitting in on their classes and writing evaluations that from what the students overheard were far from complimentary. The only person she actively praised was Snape, and that only happened because she witnessed a staged fight between him, Harry, and Neville. The fight was an excuse for the pair to be in the Dungeons - detention served in the Potions Master’s care.

Even then, Umbridge had tried to lay claim to the detention. She only dropped it when Snape told her that he needed them cleaning the lab room that the 1st year Gryffindor/Slytherin class had nearly blown up. He spoke of the quality of horrible things dripping off the walls and covering the floor and benches with such fervour that she almost teared up with joy.

What Umbridge didn’t know was that the detention was not actually a punishment. Instead, it was a private session that Severus and his trio of pseudo-apprentices – Harry, Neville, and Draco Malfoy – to test variations of the antidote for Regulus. While most of Hogwarts believed that Harry was a mediocre brewer at best and Neville was a disaster behind the cauldron, the truth was quite different.

Harry and Draco had shared Severus as their tutor in the art for many years, giving them an easy advantage and comfort in joint brewing. Meanwhile, the Longbottom heir was a prodigy with any potion that relied solely on plant products. Ironically, while some of Neville’s problems in Potions class were deliberate misdirection, others were the result of Neville’s Green Magic boosting the strength of one or more ingredients.

Between Harry’s detail-oriented precision, Neville’s special talents, and Draco’s positive flair for choosing just the right adjustments to the brewing process; the trio were well suited to supplement Severus’ sheer genius in the lab. 

“Yes!” Harry cheered, one night late in November. “I think I’ve got something. It has no adverse reaction due to the contaminated stomach acid, not like the others.”

“And I think we’re ready to test it with the tissue sample,” Neville added. He piped a small amount of the potion into a glass vial, stoppering it to preserve the result.

“Excellent,” Severus said from where he was working on yet another variation. “Add it to the testing rack, and make sure that you update the documentation to detail the changes that you’ve made.”

“I’ve got an update on the one tailored to the limbic system,” Draco added as he copied his friends’ actions with his own potion.

Because the so-called ‘Nightmare Draught’ targeted multiple parts of a Wizard’s body simultaneously, the cure was similarly complex. It would take a dedicated combination of potions, each one focused on a different part of the battle for Regulus’ health. So the quartet of brewers had spent hours upon hours of tedious work. They had to test the effectiveness of the individual potions as well as their interactions when applied to the same patient.

Given the latest test results, Severus had told the boys that their cocktail of potions would probably be ready for use on the real thing in early December. With that in mind, he had already told both his ‘Lords’ that he would be unavailable for most of the school break. To each wizard, he had claimed that the other man had demanded his services.

Harry knew that when Uncle Sev told his godfather, the Animagus had laughed hysterically at the two all-powerful Wizards being jointly tricked by their supposed loyal servant. To be fair, most good news regarding Regulus made Sirius laugh, or at least grin.

Harry couldn’t wait to – finally – meet his missing Uncle properly, and not just view his body.

Beyond Harry’s classroom work, Quidditch came with its own set of problems. For example, when Harry and Draco engaged in their usual game of swapping insults and minor hexes after the Gryffindor seeker caught the snitch, winning the game, things had turned ugly. Their usual game of threats had turned into an epic brawl.

Things had escalated when a Slytherin Chaser, smarting at an accurate insult thrown by Fred Weasley, made an unfortunate reference to ‘his cousin Antonin’. One of the recent Azkaban escapees, the Death Eater Antonin Dolohov had been partially Wizards responsible for the death of Fred and George’s favourite Uncles and namesakes. Infuriated beyond his ability to control himself, Fred charged at the other Wizard, followed closely by his twin and a protective Harry. From there, things just got worse.

Of course, Umbridge used the mess as an excuse to slap a ‘lifetime Quidditch ban’ on not just Harry but also Fred and George. Her actions not only crippled the Gryffindor team’s chances at the Cup, but they also infuriated students and teachers from all the Houses.

Professor McGonagall was practically steaming. It hadn’t helped that the witch’s inspection had just occurred the day before. Now, that woman dared to attack her cubs! It was only when Dumbledore failed to respond that the fuming lioness realized exactly what was happening. Umbridge was TRYING to find an excuse to execute her authority.

It was in this tense environment that Harry headed to bed one night, having just finished a faux-detention brewing the final batch of potions for Regulus.

Exhausted, and a little dizzy from breathing in certain fumes during the brewing process, Harry quickly fell asleep. Then, in the middle of the night, Harry’s slumber was disturbed when his dreams changed. He had been in the midst of a pleasant dream:

_When the dream began, Harry found himself in the Arcade that he and Remus had visited on their weekends in Little Whinging. He was standing in front of one of the tables, a ridiculous game called whack-a-mole, with his wand in one hand. Its tip was covered with a large cloud of dark smoke shaped roughly like a mallet’s head. In the game itself, the mechanized heads of ordinary rodents had been replaced with the busts of the Family Black’s threats both big and small. So far he’d spotted Umbridge, Dumbledore, Fudge, Voldemort, Pettigrew, Skeeter, Bellatrix, Uncle Vernon, Quirrell, Lockhart, Lucius Malfoy, Mrs. Weasley, Greyback, and many others; their marbleized visages yelling at him whenever they emerged above the table’s surface._

_To his further delight, he had found that his wand-mallet could be used just like in the normal game. Without any hesitation, he began to bash away. First, Harry had targeted those who most offended him. He had to admit that his favourite bust to whack was tied between squashing the giant bow on Umbridge’s head and knocking the sparkly pointed hat off Dumbledore’s white head._

_Behind and around him, Harry could hear the shouts and cheers of his family and friends, as they celebrated every time he managed to take someone out. Sirius was especially loud in calling out specific targets._

_The electric lights and sounds filled Harry’s ears, and he laughed aloud in delight. He had just slammed Quirrell’s bust hard enough to spin it around and reveal the possessed visage of Voldemort on the back when the scene began to fade…_

“Damn it,” Harry cursed as he found himself pulled from the moment of wish-fulfilment. Instead, his disembodied form was floating near the ceiling of a dark corridor. “I was having fun.”

A light appeared near the end of the hall. With a thought, Harry drifted forward to investigate. Before long, he reached it and realized that the light was attached to the wand of the Weasley Patriarch, Arthur. The adult Wizard was seated in a chair set beside a large, closed door.

Harry raised an invisible eyebrow. He remembered this hallway. It led to the Chamber of Prophecies. If he wasn’t currently bodiless, he would totally have slapped his forehead.

_This was what the Order was stuck guarding? Why?_

After a moment, though, Harry was distracted by another sound. To his ears, it sounded like muffled cursing, and it was coming from the end of the corridor where he had first appeared.

_§Ssstupid Massster,§_ the voice said, _§Making Nagini ssslither through thisss cold sspace. Nagini ought to bite him, remind him who’sss bossss.§_

When Harry realized what it was, he let out a sound halfway between a gasp and a giggle.

[ ](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Dendroaspis_polylepis_\(14\).jpg)

_Reference: 'Mundane' Black Mamba_

There was a truly massive grey-green snake making its way down the corridor. It looked to be a good five meters in length, and maybe twenty-five centimetres in diameter. As it opened its mouth to scent the air, Harry noticed that the inside of its mouth was black instead of a more typical colour like pink or red.

“A Magical black mamba,” Harry breathed. He’d heard stories from his Family about the creature, besides his brief glimpse in the graveyard. “That must be the Dark Lord’s familiar, the one Siri thinks is the last Horcrux.”

Harry wished he wasn’t just a bodiless viewer and could do… something.

_§Masssster sayssss Nagini mussst go through the ssstupid door.§_ The snake continued speaking in what Harry quickly realized was Parseltongue. _§Red wisssard be ssstopping Nagini from doing what sssshe musssst.§_

Moving with surprising speed given her bulk, Nagini rushed forward. Before he even noticed her presence, she had already bitten down hard on Arthur Weasley’s leg. Despite his shock, the older Wizard managed to let out a yell. Then he shot off a spell, hitting Nagini with a high-powered cutting curse.

While the serpent’s Magically resistant hide blunted the curse, it did manage to open up enough of a wound to make her rear back, bloody. Mr. Weasley’s yell was also enough to alert a second guard, one who was much more attentive than Arthur. This cloaked figure burst through the closed door, shooting off a containment hex even as they crossed the threshold.

Unlike Weasley’s curse, the cloaked figure’s hex was designed for use on Magical creatures. The hissing snake was quickly encased inside of a Magical bubble, which the hooded figure then levitated into the room behind the door.

Once that was taken care of, the figure whisked off her cloak, revealing the form of Harry’s Aunt Lucretia.

“Oh, Arthur, you foolish boy,” she said. Then she reached into her robes and placed a pendant around his neck.

“Emergency,” she spoke clearly, and Mr. Weasley’s body vanished.

_Portkey,_ Harry realized.

She re-donned her cloak, taking up the seat where Arthur had once sat and extinguishing her wand. As she did so, Harry felt himself drifting away, his senses growing dimmer and dimmer until…

He awoke.

After a moment of thought, Harry realized what he needed to do.

“Ron!” he hissed in a sharp whisper as he leaned over to the left. “Wake up!”

It took a few more whispers and an actual physical shake before the other boy finally roused.

“Harry?” he murmured sleepily. “What time is it?”

“I don’t know,” Harry replied, “but I just had a Vision.”

That was enough to break Ron’s lethargy. When Harry had stayed with the Weasleys the summer before Fourth Year, Harry had several nightmares about Pettigrew and Voldemort, nightmares that were proven true dreams later that year. Clearly, Ron remembered that fact.

“Blimey Harry, not again?”

When Harry nodded, Ron asked. “What was so important about it that you needed to wake me up?”

“It was your dad, Ron!”

“What?”

“There was an attack at the Ministry. Come on, we need to get everyone up.”

“Everyone?”

“Yeah. I mean, your family, that is. I saw your dad get bit by a bloody massive snake before being evacuated to St. Mungos.”

“Merlin!” Ron breathed. He turned to run out the door and then paused. “But how do we get to Ginny, boys can’t go up the girls’ stair.”

Harry paused for a moment, stumped, and then he shrugged. “Let’s get the twins first. I bet they’ll have an idea.”

When they reached the seventh year boys landing, Harry banged on the door. A yawning Lee answered it, rubbing his eyes.

“Harry? Ron?” He shook his head and then held the door open.

As the boys entered the room, Harry bit back a grin. While George lay sprawled on his bed, arms and legs akimbo – fast asleep, the curtains around Fred’s bed were drawn. If he strained his ears, Harry could hear two sets of whispers, one pitched considerably higher than the other one.

“Ron, you wake up George, I’ll take Fred.”

“Fine,” Ron grumbled, “I’ll see if I can find a long stick.”

Walking over to the bed with the closed curtains, Harry rapped on the trunk set at the base of the bed.

“Fred, Angelina, its Harry. There’s an emergency.”

Two heads poked their way out between the drawn curtains.

“Hey Harry,” Angelina said, unconcerned. Fred, meanwhile, turned red for a moment before sobering. “What’s the emergency little brother mine?”

“Vision.”

Fred paled, knowing what that meant. He gave Harry a hard glance, and the younger Wizard nodded.

“Right.”

“Angie, can you go get Ginny up? It’s a family situation,” Harry asked.

That news made Fred blanch even further. Within moments both teens emerged from behind the curtain.

“Meet you downstairs?” Angelina asked as she headed out the door. Everyone nodded.

“Is it all hands on deck?” Lee asked seriously from where he leaned on his bedpost.

“Nope, just a family emergency,” Harry replied, equally sombre. “Don’t expect us back, though, at least not tonight. I have a feeling we’ll end up starting our break early.”

“Sure thing, just… keep me posted?”

“Will do.”

The four boys headed out, Harry grabbing his satchel from his room as they passed it on their way down. He also gave a now awake Neville (and Seamus and Dean) a quick update. “Weasleys have a family emergency and I’m going with. Go ahead and go back to sleep,” he told them before he rushed to catch up with the rest.

When they reached the common room, Ginny and Angelina were already there. Ginny looked mulish at being woken in the middle of the night, but a quick glance toward Harry changed her mood.

“Emergency?” She asked carefully.

“Vision,” he replied, and that was that.

As Ginny and Harry spoke, Fred and Angie were exchanging a farewell kiss that had all four of his ‘younger siblings’ rolling their eyes and turning away.

“Come on, Gred,” George ordered as Harry led the way out the portrait hole.

“Coming Forge,” Fred replied, giving Angie’s hand a squeeze before he followed.

It was almost a shock to realize how quiet the halls were as the group made their way toward the Headmaster’s office. Just down the corridor from the griffin statue, they ran into Severus – Professor Snape – heading in the same direction.

“You-Know-Who?” Harry asked, gesturing towards the dark mark.

Severus nodded, his raised brows sending a message without needing words.

“Vision. Nagini, Arthur Weasley, Ministry.”

“Bite?”

“Unspeakable. St. Mungos. Summons?”

“Failure. Retrieval?”

“Impossible.”

“Report?”

“Confirm, then Return.”

“Later.”

With only those few words, the pair had exchanged all they needed to do to understand. As they spoke, the Weasley siblings’ heads bounced back and forth as if watching a duel. Harry knew it had to be a strange sight to those used to Severus and Harry’s public relationship.

Upon reaching the statue, Severus told the enchantment, “candy-canes”. As he did so, he raised an eyebrow in an unspoken dare for someone to comment. No one took him up on the offer. Instead, they all piled into the stairwell.

As they went approached the Headmaster’s office door it swung open from the other side, revealing the unexpected form of Professor Minerva McGonagall. She was still dressed in her night robe and tartan dressing gown, but the casual garments took nothing away from her intimidating presence.

“Ah, Weasleys. I was just coming to collect you,” she said, before glancing over at Harry. “And… Mr. Potter, why have you joined them?”

“I had a vision about what happened,” he replied, as they followed her back into the chamber.

Inside, the Headmaster was already seated at his desk, with Tonks standing at attention opposite. From his place behind the teens, Severus gave an abbreviated wave at his forearm, before he departed through the office’s Floo.

“Harry, my boy, what are you doing here?” Dumbledore asked, smiling a genial smile.

“I had a vision, Professor,” Harry explained as the other teens crowded around behind him. “I saw Mr. Weasley sitting in a dark hallway that looked kind of familiar. Then I saw the same massive snake that was at the graveyard in June. It bit Mr. Weasley in the leg before he managed to chase it off with a slashing hex. I wanted to make sure that someone was told and he got help. I know how deadly snake venom can be. Of course, I brought Ron and the others along, they are his children, you know.”

Dumbledore sighed, “Arthur was indeed bitten, but he has been found and taken to St. Mungos for treatment already. Professor McGonagall was just about to fetch you four to meet your mother and older brothers there.”

He waved, and the rest of the group off, leaving only Harry and Tonks behind. “Tell me, my boy,” Dumbledore asked, ignoring Tonks’ presence. “Did you see anything else?”

Harry felt a bit of pressure behind his eyes; Dumbledore was trying to overcome his Occlumency shields. With a thought, Harry used the layering technique that Sirius had taught him to create an emotional surface layer that would reinforce what he spoke while preventing the Headmaster from reading his actual thoughts.

“Not really, Professor,” he replied. “I mean, I heard Nagini – the snake – complaining in Parseltongue before she attacked, but she didn’t really say anything interesting. I woke up shortly after the attack.”

“Thank you for informing me, Harry, my boy…” Dumbledore began, but before he could say anything else, Harry interrupted.

“Professor, please. I have to know what’s going on with Mr. Weasley, I…” He intensified the feeling of guilt in his outer emotional layer.

“Very well,” Dumbledore replied. “You may join the Weasleys while they wait, with young Tonks here as your guard. But…” he held up a finger. “The second you get the update, I want you to head directly to Grimmauld Place. I will have the Hogwarts elves drop off your belongings there, as well as the Weasley children’s. You all will be spending the Holidays in the safe house.”

Harry nodded seriously, though inside he was thrilled at the news. _It’ll nice to be home early, despite the reason._


	24. Letter Interlude: Family Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius discusses Black Family secrets and alliances with his mum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest letter so far, taking up five images because it covers so much information. As always, the letter images are followed by a plain text version of the letter.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

September 5th, 1975

Dear Mum,

It’s good to be back at Hogwarts after such an interesting summer.

I always knew that you were the true ruler of our home, but I never realized that it was Black tradition and an official position. Aunt Cassie told me about how in every generation we have a Matriarch Black leading the internal politics of the House while Lord Black leads external politics.

She told me that you made the choice to marry Father rather than be a ‘maiden aunt’ like her because Father’s proclivities meant that there wouldn’t be any proper Heir Black after him otherwise. I mean, sure he’s our Father by blood adoption and nurture, but he’s not our Sire.

Were you ever going to tell us that we had a third parent? Aunt Cassie said she didn’t know whom you used but speculated that it was probably a half-blood or Muggleborn Wizard. I suppose it’s a good way to bring new blood into the family.

On that topic, do you have a Matriarch in mind for my generation of the family? My guess was Cissa, before she was stuck in the Malfoy contract. I found reference to a few Matriarch Blacks who were widows, is that your plan?

Now that I know your official position, Mother, I’d like to request permission to bring the core of my Hogwarts network formally into the Black Family, once they reach their majorities later this year of course.

As a reminder, my Hogwarts network includes:

Severus - who falls under the family umbrella as the grandson of a Black through his mother. He has been ignored by her father’s Family and has been allied with us for years. I know Uncle Cygnus has been looking for a protégé since he wasn’t granted any sons. Since Cygnus’ family role is Neutral Dark and tied to Bella, the connection would please Voldemort.

Remus Lupin – whose status is a werewolf of no particular Family, so he could use the support of a sponsorship. He also has connections to several factions that we are monitoring. Given your brother Alphard is your generation’s version of me (you know it’s true); he’d be the perfect mentor for Remy.

Lily Evans – nominated by both Narcissa and I. She’s Severus’ Muggleborn best friend. Unless something changes drastically, she is also likely to end up Lady Potter. She’s admitted to Cissa that the only reason she hasn’t agreed to date Jamie yet is that he needs to grow up first.

She has ambition as well. According to her, as a female Muggleborn the only way for her to advance in Wizarding society is through marriage into one of the Families. Jamie is an excellent fit for that goal if you ignore his immaturity. With your approval, I suggest we ask Aunt Dorea to mentor her. If Jamie doesn’t get his act together by graduation, I would be willing to offer for her (though that’s not my first preference). 

Barty Crouch is Reg’s pick, and his best friend here at Hogwarts. His mother is a former Black (Charis). I know that we usually try not to claim Heirs, but the rumours around Hogwarts hint that Crouch Senior is abusive and doesn’t deserve an Heir. Besides, the family is minor and you know Charis’ marriage was arranged with the possibility of absorbing that Family in mind. Barty has the potential to give us an in with the Ministry, Voldemort, or both. I’m sure that you already have ideas how to give him a Mentor without revealing our plans.

Setting aside the political business, Mum, the Family Magic is magnificent. Aunt Cassie was able to give me a glimpse, and I totally understand the family obsession with astronomy now. It really does feel like we’re reaching for the stars when we access it. I can’t wait for my birthday to get the full measure. On that note, I think we need to do something drastic after my birthday to support the appearance of my separation from the Family.

Those of us with our eyes open see true war on the horizon; I admit the expected impact on my generation scares me. We’re still recovering from the losses in grandfather’s generation due to the Grindelwald War.

May Mother Magic grant our Family wisdom in these troubled times.

Sirius Orion Black

_Toujours Pur_


	25. Life and Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a Wizard returns from the brink of Death, while another leaves this life for eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit of a monster, and the center point around which the rest of the story revolves. Thus it ended up being much larger than the average...  
> Also, there is a bit of semi-graphic violence in the last part of the chapter, nothing too explicit or at least not any more so than canon, just enough to flesh out exactly what happens.

“Well, that’s that,” Lucretia Black Prewett said with a grin. Reaching out, she deposited Nagini’s venom-imbued, entirely deceased remains into the Department’s furnace for immolation. As she did so, she smiled over at Sirius. The younger Wizard had been snuck inside of the Department of Mysteries in honour of the momentous occasion. “The snake – or rather something imbedded in her body – possessed the expected portion of the Dark Bastard’s soul. He’s mortal now.”

As Lucretia spoke, the pair of Blacks exchanged a sharp-edged grin of vicious delight. The Family’s plan for the final take-down of the monster known as Voldemort was right on track.

“Excellent work, thank you cousin Lu,” Sirius said with a small bow as he claimed the cloak that she handed to him. The Unspeakables’ Cloak of Office – which employees of the department wore while out on official business – was designed to disguise their identities and thus allow them to work without fear of reprisal. Normal Unspeakables’ Cloaks were enchanted such that only the registered owner could access their special properties. However, the Department also had a half-dozen ‘Witness’ cloaks. These could be used by Senior Unspeakables, such as Lucretia, to escort witnesses or other experts through the outer halls of the Ministry without revealing their participation in a Department project. It was one of these cloaks that Sirius received, swinging it into place and fastening the clasp at the neck with the ease of a lifetime of experience. 

As they left the furnace room, making their way through the halls of the Department, Sirius took a moment to appreciate the benefits of anonymity. In their apparently identical cloaks, they looked like any other Unspeakable as they walked. It really was freeing not to have to be constantly on guard for potential witnesses.

“How is young Harry doing, with the whole mess from the vision, that is?” Lucretia asked, interrupting Sirius’ musing.

He turned to respond but had to wait to speak until there was no one within earshot. Even through the Cloaks’ enchantments, he didn’t want to risk someone recognizing his voice or learning one of the Family’s secrets. “He’s been fairly calm about the whole affair. Thankfully, ever since we took care of the scar his visions have shown things as if he’s hovering nearby instead of inside of Tommy-boy’s head. I can only imagine how much worse it would have been if he had found himself seeing things as if he were Nagini. I know that witnessing your counter attack and capture of the creature makes things easier, as does the knowledge that Arthur is already on the mend.”

“True. It is curious that Harry held onto the Parseltongue, isn’t it.”

“Yeah. I thought he might lose it after we dealt with the scar. Mum’s portrait claims that he may have inherited it fairly, that Tommy-Boy’s Horcrux may have simply activated a dormant talent in his blood. In that case, it would make sense that it would remain. I know from Father’s old research that the Potters and Gaunts were both Peverell descendants. That line was infamous in its Parseltongue heritage, you know.”

“I had never really considered things in that light. The potential for that shared heritage is…. intriguing.”

“I suppose,” Sirius said with a shrug. Unlike for his Unspeakable Aunt, he had little interest in research of such esoteric topics. The real-world impact was all he really cared to understand. “To be honest, hearing Parseltongue still gives me the shivers. I know that it’s because of encounters with Tommy-boy during the first war, not anything inherently wrong with the talent, but I just can’t help the reflex. I’m working on suppressing it – for Harry’s sake if anything.”

Despite the Unspeakable cloak still masking his movements, Sirius shrugged out of habit.

Then he continued, asking Lucretia. “Do you want to be on the strike team?”

“No. I am happy with all that I have managed to accomplish thus far. I do have several work projects that have been neglected recently in favour of Family business.”

“And we wouldn’t want your peers becoming suspicious?”

From the motion of the cloak hiding her face, Sirius assumed that Lucretia nodded.

Having reached one of the private Floo access points used by employees of the Department of Mysteries who didn’t want to have to make their way out into the main atrium, Sirius turned to his cousin. “Pass along my Yule greetings to Ignatius and Mal, would you? With our guests in residence, there’s no way that Grimmauld Place can host the Black gathering this season.”

“Of course. Magic Bless.”

“Magic Bless, Cousin Lu,” Sirius said. Swinging the Unspeakable Witness Cloak off his shoulders, he handed it off in exchange for a handful of Floo powder. “Grimmauld Place. Family Parlour,” he called with the ease of long habit.

As he disappeared into the flames, the last thing Sirius saw was his cousin’s smile as she swung her Cloak’s hood back into place before turning to leave the alcove.

On the other side of the toasty ride, Sirius was surprised to find not just Remus, but Harry and Severus waiting. Remus spoke up first.

“Well?” He asked, getting straight to the most important question.

“Confirmed and destroyed.”

Five very different beings all sighed as one. Remus, Severus, Harry, Walburga’s portrait and a quasi-hidden Kreacher all breathed together in their shared relief. Like Sirius and Lucretia earlier, they now knew that the monster was once more capable of the final death.

“Right, then, was that all you lot were waiting for?” Sirius asked, flashing his signature smirk in an attempt to break the sombre moment.

“No,” Severus disagreed, glancing over at Harry. “I’ve just brought over the last batch. It’s time.”

Sirius blew out a breath. _Oh. Reg._

“Okay…” he said, squaring his shoulders, “then lead the way.”

It was only a short time later when the four Wizards and one house-elf took up positions all around the bed where Regulus lay. Despite the comatose state of its inhabitant, the bedroom was in excellent condition. The ever-loyal Kreacher had taken care to keep everything in exactly the same condition as it had been the day that his beloved Master Regulus had been consigned his current state. As such, Kreacher had cleaned and dusted, swapping out worn items as needed, even the bedding had been routinely changed as needed to keep the room spotless.

On Regulus dresser, which stood along one wall of the room, Sirius could see an entire pharmacopeia of potions, salves and other medical supplies sitting ready for use. That reminded him, “Do we need to have a Healer here? I mean, I know you’ve got some medical training Sev, but that’s not your area of expertise, you know.”

“For this first stage, the focus is on making sure I get the right combination of potions into Regulus’ system in short order, so having a Healer on-site is unnecessary,” Severus replied absently, his mind already focused on the task ahead.

“I did contact Andrea Macmilllan, your Grandmother’s cousin, and our regular Healer. She’s on call, and expects to be stopping by later today if all goes well,” Remus added, even as he reached out and patted his old friend’s arm. He knew that Sirius’ questions were simply a means of easing nerves more than anything else.

The man in question breathed out, releasing a large sigh. “Okay… Right… Are we ready?” Four nods were his only reply. “Let’s do this.”

“Then let us begin,” Severus words were smooth but brief, as he took command of his ‘troops’.

“Kreacher, we’re ready for you to lift the stasis Ward you’ve placed.”

The house-elf nodded and snapped his fingers. Regulus’ hair and clothes began to move as if a gust of wind was flowing across his frozen form. When that movement stopped, another started. Sirius held his breath as his brother’s chest began to rise and fall, moving on its own for the first time in over fifteen years.

Reaching over to the dresser, Severus collected a vial of pale yellow liquid from where it stood with the rest of the potions. Then, with a wave of his wand, he wordlessly spelled it directly into Regulus’ body. This technique would distribute the potion equally through both blood and tissue, ensuring an even distribution.

It took a breathless moment, but then Regulus’ eyes fluttered. His limbs started shaking, and a rattling appeared in his breathing. A flush immediately sprouted all over his exposed skin, the outward sign of a fever.

“Merlin,” Sirius breathed. He had not actually borne witness to Regulus’ condition before he’d been placed in stasis back in ’79. Now, though, he could see all too clearly the reason that his parents had insisted on such drastic measures.

“Harry, I need you to focus on the bones,” Severus ordered as he sent a pale grey potion over to the younger Wizard’s hands. “You know that the draught is causing deterioration at a cellular level. Distribute this brew evenly across every bone in order to combat the corrosion. Make certain that you use the special trick which I taught you to make sure you reach even into the marrow of the larger bones.”

“Remus,” Severus continued, speaking even as his eyes were locked on the diagnostic data that he had displayed above Regulus’ recumbent form. “I’m putting you on the digestive tract.” An absent wave of his wand sent a red potion flying towards the hovering werewolf. “Focus on coating the inner lining of his stomach and intestines first as there is a concentration of Nightmare Draught residuals still gathered there.”

“And me?” Sirius asked, anxious to do something.

“Respiratory system,” came the immediate response. Like with Harry and Remus, Severus shot a vial in Sirius’ direction with an absent-minded wave. This time, it was a larger vial filled with a barely visible mist of pale blue. “He needs to breathe this in, letting it flow down his airway coating his trachea as it moves. From there, you need to ensure that it spreads throughout ALL of Reg’s lung tissue.”

“And I, I’ll be focusing on his blood and neural network,” Severus finished, snagging three vials of his own.

“Oh, and Kreacher…” Severus said abruptly, even as he began to work, “keep Regulus as still as you can without doing further damage.”

All of the tasks were delicate and fiddly, and none of the members of the team dared risk a single moment of distraction. Eventually, though, Remus, Harry, and Sirius all finished, leaving only Severus at work.

He had naturally given himself the most challenging part of the process. Sirius knew that the human brain and nervous system were complex and delicate – far beyond his own limited understanding. What he did know – mostly from Sev’s comments over the years – was that the Nightmare draught was insidious in how it burrowed in and corrupted everything, working from the inside out. 

Despite their tasks being completed, the trio of waiting Wizards stayed and watched with bated breath as Severus collected the last of the contamination in the large flask that he had set aside for that express purpose. Then, he nearly collapsed, his energy almost completely spent.

“I’ve done all that I can at this point,” Severus said hoarsely as he claimed a seat in the armchair set beside the dresser. “He’ll be in for a rough time. His own Magic and body must work together to heal the damage that was already done. At least now he can, as we’ve finally managed to extract all remnants of that… monstrosity.” 

With a final wave of his wand, Severus set a diagnostic charm over the sleeping Regulus. “That will keep us informed of any change in his condition. I’ve particularly set it to keep watch for any signs that something was missed, that somewhere deep inside a pocket of the draught still remains. It is my hope that it will prove unneeded, but it is better to be overly cautious than to be taken by surprise. .”

Sighing, Severus leaned back into the depths of the cosy armchair. As he did so, he reached up and rubbed his temples in an attempt to relieve what was likely a tension headache.

“Okay, you’ve done enough for now. You need to take a rest if you’re going to be up for consulting with Andrea later.” Reaching out his hand, Remus helped his husband up. From there, he wrapped an arm around the other Wizard’s waist, using the leverage provided to keep the drained Potions Master upright.

“Yes, go rest, Sev. I’ll stay here and keep watch,” Sirius agreed.

“Me too,” Harry added.

Together, the pair piled into the now vacant armchair with the ease of long practice. The younger Wizard was perched partly on his godfather’s lap as they conversed quietly, keeping watch over the sleeping invalid while simply enjoying time in each other’s company.

“Well,” the woman’s voice held the brisk, no-nonsense tone of a practiced Healer, “that is a mess, isn’t it.”

Having arrived at Grimmauld Place just a few minutes before, Healer Andrea Macmillan had been escorted straight to Regulus’ chambers the second she had stepped foot through the Floo grate. Her escort was a cheerfully worn-out werewolf, who had been patiently awaiting her arrival. Once he had dropped Andrea off with Regulus’ watchers – aka Sirius and Harry – he had then gone and fetched his still-resting husband.

So, all of the participants in the earlier effort once more found themselves in the same positions as before. Of course, this time, they were not preparing for action. Instead, they all stood and watched as Andrea sorted through her diagnostic’s readings.

“The good news is that there doesn’t appear to be any residual pockets of corruption,” she commented, looking over at Severus. “You’ve done good work there.” But then she sighed. “It will be a long road though, bringing Regulus here back to full health. I’d like to keep him in a Charmed coma, allow his body to heal a bit before we stress it further by waking him up.”

Reaching into her Healer’s bag, she passed a packet of powder over to the hovering Kreacher. “These nutrient potions need to be spelled, with plenty of water, into his system for as long as he stays under. We wouldn’t want to compromise his healing due to a lack of sufficient nutrients.”

After wrapping a bracelet inscribed with a plethora of runes around Regulus’ wrist, Andrea nodded decisively. “Now, this will monitor my patient’s condition, and inform me of any emergencies. Otherwise, I’ll be by to check on him once a day. If you would temporarily key me into the Wards so that I can Floo in directly, that would be preferable.”

“Already done,” Sirius nodded.

Andrea patted his hand. “When he does wake, keep in mind that to Regulus it is still the middle of the war. You’re going to have a lot of bad news to give, so break it to him gently.”

“I will, thanks,” Sirius managed to say. His eyes were locked on Reggie’s sleeping form and he spoke as if through a haze.

“Come on, Healer Macmillan, I’ll show you out,” Remus interrupted. He knew that his friend needed a moment. “Thank you again for keeping all of this a secret.”

“Of course, dear,” the much older Witch replied, patting his arm. “You know Mels, Wally, Phee, and the others would haunt me forever if I refused you, boys. Besides, not only are you practically family, Remus, but Siri and Reggie are my blood family. Now, I simply must be getting back before Edward and the rest start to worry.”

Remus and Andrea’s voices faded from hearing as they headed down the hall. After they left, Sirius continued to stare, watching over his now much younger twin for as long as he could bear.

It was several nights later when the former Malfoy house-elf named Dobby popped through the Wards of Grimmauld Place. On the hunt for Harry, he made his way into Sirius’ bedroom. The bouts of nightmares that the teen Wizard had suffered earlier in the year had unfortunately made a resurgence in recent weeks. This was due to the vision of Arthur’s attack by Nagini, a clear reminder of Tom Riddle’s own actions against the Boy Saviour. As such, Sirius had once more become accustomed to having a visitor arrive in the middle of the night.

Of course, this was one such evening.

“Great Harry Potter, sir!” Dobby cried in a squeaky ‘whisper’. “It is being time!”

Despite the amusing nature of Dobby’s speech, the news that he brought had both Sirius and Harry stunned. They hadn’t thought that ‘Cissa would find an opening, not this soon.

“Yes. The nasty Dark Wizard be ordering Old Master to be presenting his Heir at the Solstice ceremony.”

Harry and Sirius snorted in unison. “That’d do it.”

There was nothing quite so vicious as a Black woman protecting her children, and underneath her elegant manners, ‘Cissa was one of the worst.

“Now, the Dark One is being so pleased about his new peoples, that he is not being watchful at dinner. Dobby is being able to add to the evil Wizard’s goblet in secret, Dobby is. Then, once he is being asleep, Mistress is having the nasty Necro-man put in the ritual room. Now she is sending Dobby to call the rest of the Conclave. Dobby is being charged with bringing Black Wizards to the boundaries, where Master Dragon is being escorting everyone across the Ward lines.”

Despite his peculiar turn of phrase and frequent squeaks of excitement, Dobby’s message was clear.

“Excellent, thank you Dobby,” Sirius said with a grin. “Do you know which Ward line Draco is using?”

“Master Dragon is being at the North-West corner, Dog-Wizard, sir. He is being using the secret tunnels to be bringing the Black Wizards inside, he is.”

“Well then, as Harry and I already know the way, why don’t you go ahead and fetch the rest of your charges.”

“Yes sir, Dog-Wizard, sir,” Dobby said, nodding his head violently. Then he Disapparated with a pop.

“Well then, pup, I’ll go wake up the lovebirds while you get dressed,” Sirius teased as he threw on his robe and shoved his godson off the bed.

_This would be a night to remember._

Upon reaching the designated gathering spot, Sirius was surprised to see more than just the older generation of Blacks that he’d been expecting. In fact, several of Harry’s peers were also present. 

“Hey Harry,” Neville said with a wry grin from where he stood. “Dobby collected me through Gran’s Wards, impressive huh.”

“Only because you gave him access, you prat,” Harry said with a similar grin as he swung his arm around the taller boy. “Why you?”

“Just in case we misinterpreted the prophecy, you know,” was the straightforward reply.

“Of course.”

Even more surprising to both Harry and Sirius was the sight of a familiar head of red locks alongside black ones off to one side of the gathering.

“And how are you here Gin-Gin,” Harry teased, tugging at one of the pigtails she wore, likely a remnant of her recent awakening.

“I was sleeping over at Mal’s tonight. Of course, mum thinks I’m at Great-Aunt Muriel’s instead, as usual. When Dobby delivered the news, Aunt Lucretia said I should come along, help balance the numbers for the rite. I am Black-descended, you know.”

“Sneaky,” Harry teased. “I didn’t realize that Mal had unearthed that Mandrake.”

“Just to me and Luna, and even then not everything,” the younger witch replied. “I had figured out a lot because of the Diary and the stuff that Tom said, and she knew I needed to be in on this.”

Harry sighed but nodded, and Sirius agreed. Like his godson, Ginny had a personal stake in needing to see the snake bastard’s true death.

The last to arrive was Andi and Tonks, the latter still dressed in her Auror robes. “Fortunately, I just got off shift,” she commented wryly, her hair cycling through a variety of colours. “Didn’t have to get woken from sleep like the rest of you lot.” 

“Shall we, then,” Draco said, interrupting his older cousin. “Mother’s waiting inside.”

All twelve Witches and Wizards gathered nodded. Straightening his back into the perfect posture that he’d been trained to hold, Draco formally intoned: “I, Draconis Lucius Malfoy, Heir Malfoy, do grant this gathering one-time permission to freely cross the Wards of the Malfoy Estate and enter into the heart of our lands.”

Having followed Draco through the tunnels down into the depths of the Malfoy Estate, the entire coven quickly reached the Ritual Chamber that sat at its heart. There, Matriarch Narcissa Black Malfoy stood. Dressed in a white silk robe, she had already secured the still-unconscious form of the reborn Dark Lord to the massive Obsidian altar that occupied the middle of the room.

Dobby’s potion had not just encouraged the Dark Wizard to sleep; it had also acted to suppress his Magic. In addition, the chains used to secure him to the altar were Magic-resistant. As such, they were meant to hold even the most powerful Wizards captive. Finally, the position that he was bound – arms above the head and feet secured together to keep him fully stretched across the altar – also had a secondary benefit. In that position, Voldemort would be unable to activate the Dark Mark and summon his followers to his aid.

Draco led the group over to a set of hooks in one corner of the room, where white silk robes to match Narcissa’s garb hung. It was the work of a moment for the entire group to follow their Matriarch’s example.

Then, the Black Conclave gathered before the altar, taking up positions in a semi-circle behind the silent Narcissa. Taking positions in pairs, each Witch stood with a Wizard at her back: Dorea with Sirius, Lucretia with Severus, Andi with her father Cygnus, Tonks with Remus, Mal with Draco, and Neville with Ginny. Meanwhile, Harry, the only one left alone, stepped up to join Narcissa at the centre of the arc. With their white hoods raised, they placed themselves before their planned Sacrifice.

With a wave of her wand, Narcissa awoke the villain.

_§What?§_ The hissed word was all that he managed to say. Then, Narcissa silenced him with a wave of her wand.

Struggling frantically, Voldemort tried desperately to free himself from his bonds.

Even as he did so, Narcissa began to speak the words of the ritual. Her voice echoed with the power of the Conclave, a marked difference from her usual demure tone. Almost absently, Sirius wondered if Tommy-boy even knew who held him captive. _Well, if he doesn’t know yet, he will soon._

The opening words were Narcissa’s to claim:

> “Tom Marvolo Riddle, he who has claimed the name Voldemort, you have been brought before this Conclave to be judged for your actions against the Black Family and against Magic herself.”

From there, each Witch in the Conclave added her piece, lowering her hood as she spoke:

> **Dorea** – “You have claimed a heritage that you possess no right to hold.”
> 
> **Lucretia** – “You have fractured your soul through the most heinous of Black Magics.”
> 
> **Andi** – “You have corrupted generations of our society with beliefs that you do not yourself hold true.”
> 
> **Tonks** – “You have set brother against brother, father against son, mother against daughter, in a war that has served no purpose beyond unending destruction.”
> 
> **Mal** – “You have cast aside the traditions that have made our Society great, all because you failed to understand or access their power.”
> 
> **Ginny** – “You have pursued and encouraged the slaughter of the innocent, harming those who Mother Magic charges us all to protect.”

Once all of the other Witches had given her piece, it was time for Narcissa to speak once more. Lowering her own white hood, Narcissa continued.

> “For these and many other reasons, I, as Matriarch Black, do sentence you to death.”

Now it was Harry’s turn. Stepping up, he took his cousin’s place in Riddle’s line of sight, lowering his own hood as he spoke. 

> “As you have been reborn through the foulest of Necromantic rituals, so will your body be undone.”

Sirius steeled himself, knowing what was to come.

> “Bone of the father, stolen by the son, let your theft be negated.”

As Harry spoke, the chains that bound Riddle were pulled taught by the Wizards who stood silent behind their assigned Witches. Despite the silencing Ward, Sirius could see the monster screaming as his shoulders dislocated.

> “Flesh of the servant, sacrificed to an ignoble cause, let your offering be rejected.”

This time, Riddle was hit by a spray of acid, which smoked where it hit leaving pocks in the corrupted flesh.

> “Blood of the enemy, borrowed unwillingly, let your vitality be recovered.”

Drawing an Athame of silver from the depths of her robe, Narcissa handed it to Harry. He swallowed, and then, with a nod, cut a single, deep slice. It was a direct match to the scar that Wormtail had given Sirius’ godson back in June.

As Harry stepped back, returning the Athame to its owner, the body on the altar began to crumble. It was as if the very Magic that had allowed his resurrection was drained away. Narcissa looked back to the rest of the Coven before she spoke one final time. This time her voice was triumphant as she placed the final nail in the Dark Lord’s coffin.

> “And with the anchors that you placed negated, there is now no power available to hold you to this Earth.”

With those words, a dark shape emerged from the shadows at the far side of the ritual room. At first glance, it appeared to be one of the Dementors of Azkaban. However, as it approached, instead of cold and horror, the Conclave was moved with emotionless surety.

The apparition spoke:

> **“TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. YOU HAVE FLED FROM MY PRESENCE FOR FAR TOO LONG. IT IS TIME.”**

For a moment, the darkness that cloaked the figure expanded, filling the ritual room with shadows. When the Conclave regained their sight, all that remained on the altar before them was the dusty outline where a man once lay.


	26. Letter Interlude: Inheritance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Sirius' official 'disinheritance' from the Family Black during his sixth year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This letter takes place right after the Yule break of the Marauders' sixth year, which is either in canon or at least in fanon the time when Sirius was disowned by his parents.  
> As ever, the letter images are followed by the plain text version.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

January 28th, 1976

Dear Mum,

We’re back at Hogwarts now.

It looks like everyone bought the idea that I’ve been disowned.

Jamie’s been the adorable idiot I love, bragging about how I’ve been adopted by his family. Once again, I appreciate why Aunt Dorea has kept him out of the game. He’d be miserable at it, and his sincerity is all too useful as a foil. I’m grateful that Uncle Charlus and Aunt Dorea are willing to sponsor me as a Potter in public as well.

According to Sev, the pureblood contingent has been sniffing at Reg since he’s believed to have taken my place in the family. Of course, this makes him a very attractive target for recruitment. When I asked Reg about it, he just rolled his eyes and told me that he had it under control.

I have to hide that we did the formal Inheritance ritual before I left so I have full access to the Black Family Magic, but it’s no worse than I’ve done in the past. Lily has really taken to our Family Magic as well. Along with Cissa as the senior delegate, we’ve arranged a meeting with the King Stallion of the Centaur Herd in the Forbidden Forest to renew the Black pact. I’ve got the rune stone you gave me before I left prepared.

We’ll have to be even sneakier about our correspondence from now on. I suggest we get a new owl for deliveries or you should send things through Aunt Dorea since everyone at Hogwarts knows Aristotle by now.

With all the love that I can no longer even remotely show in public,

Siri


	27. Yule Celebrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The holiday season is the perfect excuse for Harry and the others to CELEBRATE!

“Oh, what a beautiful morning,” Sirius’ voice echoed from the on-suite bathroom, waking Harry from a sound sleep.

“Oh, what a beautiful day,” Harry sung back with a grin.

Wrapped only in a towel, Sirius came bouncing back into his bedroom, shaking his head like a dog and sending a shower of water onto Harry.

“Sunshine so bright in the morning,” he continued, throwing open the curtains on the window. With the Fidelius in place, it wasn’t like anyone could peep in and see them.

“Everything’s going OUR way!” Harry finished. After the completion of the night’s ritual, the pair of Wizards returned to Grimmauld Place still giddy with excitement. There had been no way that either of them would be going to sleep right away.

Instead, they had spent most of the night talking and laughing together. They had finally drifted off some time just before dawn, sprawled across Sirius’ bed.

“Did that really happen last night, or was it just a gory, wonderful dream?”

Sirius gave a bark of laughter before summoning pants from the open wardrobe.

“Nope, pup, that was all real.”

“I wonder how Malfoy Senior’s morning is going,” He said with a laugh. After the conclusion of the ritual the night before, Narcissa and Draco had chosen not to remain in their home. Instead, they had gone to stay with Narcissa’s sister Andromeda – just in case. Everyone knew that life at the Malfoy Estate would likely be both chaotic and dangerous for all who remained.

“Who knows?” Sirius replied with a toothy grin. “After all, his ‘Dark Lord’ has disappeared while a guest in his home, his wife and child are missing, and he has a large and dangerous group of guests who will be less than pleased with the situation.”

As Sirius finished dressing, Kreacher popped in with tea for two. Before heading to Sirius’ bedroom the previous night, they had stopped by Reg’s room and given the watchful house-elf the joyous news. Like the rest of the Family Black, the old elf had been ecstatic with joy.

“Thanks, Kreach,” Harry said with an easy smile, accepting a cup. He took a sip of the tea. “Perfect as always. You know, I’m not quite ready to brave the horde yet. We need to get our stories straight first.”

“I already checked in with Sev,” Sirius replied. “It looks like the effect on the Dark Mark was slightly different from last time. Before, it faded as Tommy-boy’s power levels waned. This time, it appears that the tattoo has become a scar and thus no longer contains passive magic, nor does it move. However, it is still quite visible – unchanged to the unobservant eye. I checked Reg’s arm too, and his Mark looks the same, though it’s not inflamed like Severus’.”

“Well, that does give us some leeway. If the Mark was completely gone, then people would know for certain that he’s dead.”

“Yeah. I think, for now, we’re just going to pretend its business as usual. We do still have a substantial cadre of Death Eaters to worry about. Severus will report to Dumbledore that the Dark Lord has disappeared and his followers are in chaos as he failed to leave instructions before he departed. On the other side, we will spread the truth of the matter to those Family allies not present last night.”

“Okay. I’m going to send Hedwig to Mal and Ginny, and then to Neville. We need to make sure that my little sis doesn’t mention anything to her parents or siblings.” Harry thought for a moment and then added. “Though, it might not be a bad idea to tell the twins and Bill, since they’re already Family allies.”

“Let me check with the lovebirds,” Sirius said with a grimace, obviously not wanting to admit that he’d accidentally walked in on them… well, busy, earlier. They’d been practically plastered to each other’s side when the quartet had Flooed back to Grimmauld the night before, and Harry was a teenage boy. 

“If they agree, I’ll leave the twins up to you and the littlest redhead. I can pull Bill aside when he comes by for the Solstice feast tonight.”

“Sure.”

With a bounce in his step, Harry headed back to his bedroom for his own shower and change of clothes. Yule break was proving to be the best holiday ever!

Downstairs, even those not in the know were in a happy mood. Arthur Weasley had finally been released from St. Mungos to complete his recovery at home, though he had been forbidden from returning to work before the New Year.

Mrs. Weasley kept alternating between hovering over her husband as he ate and scolding her sons every time they made a loud noise. “Don’t startle your father, you heard what the Healer said, he’s to be kept away from stress.”

“Molly, dear,” Mr. Weasley patted her arm, “if the sound of Fred and George’s pranks stressed me out I would never have survived in our home all these years.”

“I know,” she replied with a watery chuckle, “it’s just, with the War looking to start up again, and you…”

“I’m alright,” he reiterated. “I may be down, but I’m far from out.”

He drew her in with a hug.

Given their father’s tacit approval, the twins had immediately left the kitchen to spread a variety of surprises around the public areas of the house.

Ginny returned mid-morning, bubbling over with excitement. When Harry pulled her aside to tell her the plan, she, in turn, told him all about the morning’s breakfast celebration at the Prewett house. Apparently, she and Mal had ended up talking most of the night, much like Harry and Sirius had.

“Mal’s already scheming how she can use this news down in the Slytherin dungeons when we get back,” she commented wryly.

“No big surprise there,” Harry teased, “Mal’s always scheming. And I’m sure that you weren’t… helping, were you?”

Ginny blushed. “I would never,” she replied, acting innocent enough to be Unicorn bait.

“Riiight,” was his one-word reply.

Having got the nod from Remus when he finally made his way downstairs – Severus staying upstairs to continue his monitoring of the still comatose Regulus – Harry and Ginny went over and snagged the twins from where they were scheming in the ballroom. Together, they dragged the older teens off to the girls’ bedroom, which Ginny had to herself since Hermione was back at her parents’ for the holidays.

When Harry began to put up a privacy Ward, George raised an eyebrow. “Someone has secrets to reveal, brother dearest.”

“It seems they do,” Fred agreed.

Together they plopped down onto Ginny’s bed, the younger pair sandwiched between them.

“So, what is it? A secret love affair?”

Harry and Ginny looked at each other and gagged.

“As if,” she snorted. “I haven’t thought of him that way in years. Harry’s one of you now.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “Besides, redheads aren’t really my… type.”

“Oho, little Harrikins has a type now, does he?” Fred said with a grin

“A type, indeed, brother dearest,”

“Spill.” They said in unison.

“That’s not actually what we asked you here to talk about,” Harry replied, redirecting the conversation.

“We actually have news of a more serious nature,” Ginny agreed.

“Does this have something to do with the fact that you weren’t actually at Aunt Muriel’s last night?” Fred asked.

“Of course I wasn’t, but you already knew that,” Ginny said with a roll of her eyes. It wasn’t like the twins were unaware of her friendship with Mal.

“It’s something much, MUCH bigger,” Harry said.

Realizing that the younger teens were in earnest, Fred and George stopped their teasing and sobered up.

There was a little hesitation at the start, as Harry stumbled over explaining some of the back-stories to the fascinated boys. Soon, though, the whole sordid tale of the Ritual Death of the Dark Lord Voldemort spilled out of Harry and Ginny’s mouths.

When they finished talking, the twins exchanged a quick glance before nodding in agreement.

“Right. We only have one question,” said Fred.

“Yeah. Why didn’t you invite us?”

Their laughter broke the tension that Harry and Ginny felt. Together, the four teens tumbled into a pile as they took the chance to celebrate together.

Harry and the rest had just finished eating lunch when, to their surprise, they were interrupted by the ringing of the front doorbell. Few people used that entrance to the house. Most Witches and Wizards both came and went by Floo. Meanwhile, the Fidelius and Muggle-repelling Wards prevented casual visitors.

Wand at the ready, Harry opened the door a crack. But then, when he saw the visitor, he swung it open the rest of the way.

“Come on in, Hermione,” he said as he helped her lug her bulging suitcase inside. “I thought you were going abroad with your parents?” He added over the sound of portrait Walburga’s yells. Despite her abusive diatribe, Harry could tell by her tone that his grandmother’s portrait had already heard the good news.

“Yes well, I just… I couldn’t bear to be away, given everything that’s happening here,” she admitted. For a moment, Harry was confused; Hermione couldn’t be talking about Voldemort’s death, could she?

Then he remembered, “Oh, you mean Mr. Weasley? He’s actually doing quite well. He was released this morning into home care. Mrs. Weasley’s been hovering over him all day.”

“Oh… Good…”

After another moment, Harry finally realized that she was trying to say that she was worried about him too.

“I’m doing okay, too. It helps that Mr. Weasley’s okay, you know.”

“Yeah… I know,” she agreed, and then gave him a big hug.

“Shameless hussy,” Walburga sniffed in the background, her eyes twinkling with a suppressed smile.

At that, Harry began to laugh. It really was a Magical day.

Seated in the downstairs parlour that evening, Harry was content to watch the fire as it burned through the massive log in the hearth. Around him, he could hear snatches of conversation as the room was filled with many from the Order paying a visit to ‘Headquarters’.

Mrs. Weasley had decided to argue with the twins about their career plans yet again after overhearing them discussing the joke shop idea with Sirius and Remus. Hermione had ended up in the corner with Emmaline Vance, discussing the Department of Mysteries, where the older Witch worked.

Meanwhile, Ginny had managed to engage Alastor Moody in an argument over mental control-type curses and possessions. The paranoid old bastard had seen far too many so-called Imperius victims claim amnesty using such an excuse after the first war. He had a tendency to believe that the Imperius or similar curses were impossible to defeat. Ginny, on the other side, could speak to her own experiences with the Diary Horcrux as a counter-point. Her argument was that even if you could temporarily fight off a possession, doing so on a longer time scale was indeed impossible. Harry knew that his little sister and fellow Gryffindor was torn between her interest in the DMLE and her love of Quidditch, so discussing the Dark Arts with an experienced Auror was a treat for the younger girl.

Over by the roaring fire, Ron was companionably chatting with a cheerful Tonks as they roasted chestnuts. The sounds of the nuts popping kept making the experienced warriors of the group jump, but the pair refused to stop. They were apparently arguing Quidditch, a topic that the youngest Weasley son was always happy to discuss.

“I can’t believe you’re a Cannon’s fan, they suck!” She commented, obviously seeking to rile him.

Sure enough, Ron took the bait. “They do not. They’ve just had a run of bad luck the past few years…”

“Years? I don’t remember them ever having a good season.”

“Yeah… well… that’s because their Coach is horrible,” Ron explained seriously. “I could totally do a better job.”

“Could you now?”

Harry turned his attention away from the pair as he went back to fire watching. It was oddly hypnotic, spotting all the different colours that appeared in the flames. Whenever the fire reached a new knot in the log, the area around that point would flare up in a burst of gold, tinted with green, blue or even purple.

The sounds around him faded as Harry’s eyes drifted shut. Through his eyelids, he could still see a red glow…

When Harry opened his eyes again, it was sometime late in the evening – or early in the morning, depending on your perspective. All of the evening’s visitors had already departed, returning to their own homes for the night. Those staying for the holidays had all gone up to bed, leaving only Sirius still downstairs watching the hearth and the dozing Harry.

“Hey Siri,” Harry said with a yawn, disturbing whatever had his dogfather’s forehead all wrinkled up, “what’re you thinking?”

“Just wishing,” Sirius admitted with a wry grin. “You know, Reggie and I used to stay up all night on Winter Solstice making sure that the Yule log stayed alight. We would talk about our dreams and wishes for the future. Kreacher would pop in with hot cocoa and join us, and sometimes Mum and Father would as well. It was one time I could always count on being together as a family. Then, one year, it was just… gone. Life got in the way.”

Sirius was about to say more when Kreacher suddenly popped into the room.

“Master Sirius, Young Master, he’s awake!”


	28. Letter Interlude: Commitment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things on both sides of the War start heating up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always plain text version of this letter follows the images.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

September 3rd, 1976

Dear Mum,

I’m starting to appreciate just why you hate old Tom so much. Sev passed along the news from the initiation ceremony held this summer.

I can’t believe that he tried to mark Reggie before he’d reached his majority! Did he even realize that Reg would never come into his full Inheritance or be Lord Black if he was marked before turning seventeen? Maybe he didn’t care. The only way the Dark Mark can be truly imbedded in a Wizard or Witch’s magic is if they have not yet done an Inheritance ritual, after all? I guess his need for control over-rode his desire for political power.

Good thing both Sev and Reg were covered. After all, they’ve both received the Black Inheritance already. Looks like your decision to hide the fact that Reg and I are actually twins, and he’s older than everyone assumed, has been a particularly clever decision. I’ve always wondered, how did you fool the Hogwarts Book of Names?

By the way, Dumbledore’s started sniffing around the ‘Marauders’ to recruit us to his ‘Order of the Phoenix’. I guess he shares Voldemort’s strategy of recruiting young. I get why he’s after Jamie, Remy and I, but I’m a little confused by his interest in Peter. Maybe it’s just leverage to keep us under his control.

Whatever.

Remy and I managed to hold him off by telling him that we need to focus on passing our NEWTs. Remy used the excuse that he needs excellent scores to get any job despite his condition. I explained that Uncle Charlus has promised to support my application to the Hit-Wizard program if I get at least EE’s on all my NEWTs.

We’ve also managed to distract Jamie from falling wholesale into the old coot’s plans. As sad as it is, Aunt Phee’s diagnosis this summer has been good for James. It’s really forced him to start growing up. I’m pretty sure that he and Lily will finally start dating soon.

Oh.

One good thing about being disowned, I got to go visit Andi and her family over the summer. Did you know her daughter is a Metamorphmagus!? Little Nymie is so adorable, her hair colour changes with her mood. Between Andi, Uncle Alphie, and I, we’ve organized a ‘Blacklight’ network for those of us who will be focusing on the ‘Light Lord’ side of this war. Andi convinced Cedrella Weasley and Calidora Longbottom to stand as our Matriarchs.

As you know, they’re both married into Light families. Cedrella’s son Arthur, his wife Molly, and his brothers-in-law Fabian and Gideon Prewitt are all part of Dumbledore’s Order. The old man is also recruiting Calidora’s nephew Frank, who’s currently in Auror training, to join as well.

Between Dumbledore and Voldemort, we’re seeing the build-up to a Civil War in Magical Britain with House Black is square in the middle.

Lady Magic have mercy on us all,

Sirius


	29. Victory Conditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brothers unite, and a long-standing injustice is resolved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the previous ones form a bridge between the middle-game of taking out Voldie-pants and the second challenge of a certain toad.

As Sirius sat back on the sofa watching his now MUCH younger brother and godson compare notes on ways to get around in Hogwarts secretly without being caught, he couldn’t help but smile. Finally, after so many years of sadness, things were turning around for the Family Black.

A few days before:

_“Young Master, he’s awake!”_

_Kreacher’s words were like the shock from a directed lightning hex aimed at Sirius’ spine. He nearly burst out of his seat in his rush to make it up the stairs._

_Behind him, he could hear thumps as Harry followed him. As they sped past the visitor’s floor, he caught a few confused noises, as if their rush had awoken people, but he dismissed them without a thought. Right now, he only had room for one focus. Reg._

_Reaching the door to his younger twin’s room, Sirius leaned against the doorframe. He paused, ostensibly to catch his breath, but really, he just needed a moment to process what he saw._

_Regulus was sitting up in bed; his body obviously still weak, though his mind seemed intact given that he was already teasing Severus. The other Wizard was obviously running a diagnostic check, no doubt assessing Reg’s mental state in detail. Before Regulus had awoken, they had had no way to see exactly how much damage the Nightmare Draught had done to his mind. Now that he was conscious, however, diagnostics could be run._

_Hearing Sirius’ thunderous arrival, Regulus looked up. His lips curved in a bright smile. “Wow, Siri, you got… OLD!”_

_Behind him, Sirius heard dual snorts of laughter from both Remus and Harry._

_“Get in here, you prat,” Reggie said, patting the bed beside him. “And let the lurkers behind you in too.”_

_“Hey, Reg,” Remus said with a wave as he claimed a seat beside his husband. When Regulus gave him a look at his position, Remus blushed. Then he grabbed his husband’s hand and showed off their matching fingers._

_“Good for you, mate.”_

_“Thanks.”_

_“And who’s this?” Reg asked, as Harry came over and leaned against one of the bedposts. “Looks kind of like Jamie, but those eyes, well those are totally Lils, and that smirk, well that’s definitely yours, brother mine.”_

_“Reggie, meet my godson, Harry.” The green-eyed teen waved. “He is James and Lily’s, but has been raised here among the Blacks.”_

_Catching the question that Regulus clearly didn’t want to ask, Sirius nodded._

_“When I was one,” Harry replied, also catching the unspoken question. “The snakey bastard himself took them out. But I got my revenge. Both as a baby and then again, more recently,” Harry’s grin turned sharp as he recalled recent events. “I’m sure that you’ll get the whole story later, but let’s just say, Tommy-boy has learned the hard way that it’s a bad idea to make an enemy of the Family Black.”_

_Everyone snorted at that, even Regulus. He may not know what happened, but he did know what his family was capable of doing._

_Their conversation was interrupted when Healer Andrea Macmillan came bustling into the room, followed closely by a beaming Kreacher and a pyjama-clad Tonks._

_“Madame Andrea, you haven’t aged a day since I last saw you,” Regulus said with a smile._

_“Oh, you flatterer you, just like your grandfather,” she replied taking up a position next to Severus. The two engaged in a whispered conversation as Regulus eyed the other female in the room._

_“And you are?”_

_Tonks’ hair and eyes flashed through a wild sequence of colours and shapes before settling on the amethyst and black of her mother. Inside the pyjamas, her body contorted until it took on an almost unnatural hourglass shape._

_“Why Regulus,” she said, batting her eyes wildly, “don’t you recognize little old me?”_

_He blinked for a moment, processing, and then his eyes grew sharp. “Well, well, if it isn’t little Nymie, all grown up.” Regulus waggled his eyebrows, making her laugh in response. “Last time I saw you, you were trying to copy Siri’s Grim form. All you managed was to give yourself puppy ears and a little tail to wag.”_

_That image made Harry laugh. He could totally see his older cousin doing just that, given how she’d bugged both Sirius, via mirror, and Severus until they helped her find her Animagus form. She ended up, rather hilariously, as a tiny little jerboa. A small rodent with giant ears and a long tail known for hopping like a kangaroo and surviving in harsh desert climates, the jerboa really was a perfect fit for his klutzy cousin._

_At first, the boys had given her a hard time about her form being similar to the Rat, but then she managed to use her skill at catching insects to waylay a certain… bug. She had carried the moniker Flopsy with pride ever since._

_“And don’t call me Nymie, by the way. It’s Tonks now, just Tonks.”_

_“She’s sensitive about her name,” Sirius added in a stage whisper._

_Regulus was going to reply, but he yawned instead._

_Using that sign of his exhaustion as proof, Healer Andrea took advantage of the conversational break to send everyone out._

_“I know that you’re all thrilled to see him, but my patient still needs a lot of rest before he’s up to a real discussion. It is the middle of the night; you all should be in bed. You can visit again in the morning.”_

After that first joyful scene, Regulus had continued to improve. Each day he stayed awake for longer durations as the span of time since being removed from stasis increased.

That morning, Andrea had finally announced that Regulus was well enough to withstand the FULL talk. Sirius, Remus, and Severus sat their younger brother down in the family parlour, where they were joined by Walburga’s portrait, for the tale. Over the course of several hours, Reggie laughed, sobbed, fumed and cheered as he heard all of the tragedies that had befallen the Family and their allies in the war and beyond. When Sirius finally reached recent events and told the tale of the Final Fate of the Dark Lord Voldemort, Regulus cheered through his tears.

“He’s really gone, Siri? Truly?”

“Truly.”

Sirius pushed up his brother’s sleeve, while Severus did the same. After several days of intensive - obsessive - care, the scars left by the destroyed Dark Marks had finally begun to fade. Using an aggressive scar removal lotion, the new scar tissue could be softened and removed.

While they all knew that Sev and Reg would bear the remnant of that mark for the rest of their lives, it was clear that it would not be as blatant as it had once been.

“Oh, thank bloody Merlin,” Reggie said with a sigh.

The four Wizards shared a smile.

“Now then,” Regulus went on, “tell me, brother, how are things going as far as getting your name cleared?”

Behind them, a throat cleared and a husky, feminine voice spoke.

“And that, my dear boy, is why I am here.”

The Wizards spun around.

There, dusting off her sleeves from coming through the Floo, stood a formally dressed Dorea Black Potter.

“Aunt Dorea!” Regulus cheered as she strode over to meet him. Giving Reg a short but heartfelt embrace, she claimed a seat in her favourite armchair. Reaching into her expanded bag, Dorea drew out a scroll, bound in ribbon, and sealed with the sign of the Wizengamut.

At the sight, Sirius drew in a breath, while the others stared.

“Is that…”

She handed it to him with a flourish.

* * *

> **_It is the official ruling of the Wizengamut, as recorded on this day, December 26 th, 1995, that one Sirius Orion Black, Heir Black, be declared innocent of all charges regarding the unfortunate deaths of James and Lily Potter and the supposed death of one Peter Pettigrew. _ **
> 
> **_Furthermore, in an attempt to make amends for the Ministry’s failure to ensure a proper trial back in 1981, the Wizengamut has further ordered that the Ministry must provide House Black restitution for each year that their Heir was incarcerated without a trial. The Wizengamut further adds that the Ministry has permission to pull from the vaults of the extinguished House Crouch to fulfil this order._ **
> 
> **_To receive restitution, and be officially declared a free man, the aforementioned Heir Black must present himself to the DMLE for an interview. There he is to provide sufficient explanation for his method of escape back in 1993, and prove beyond a reasonable doubt that he was not involved in the recent mass breakout._ **
> 
> **_So ordered, and so declared,_ **
> 
> **_Lord Tiberius Ogden,_ **
> 
> **_Chief Warlock of the Wizengamut._ **

* * *

“Free,” Sirius whispered, shocked. “I’m… officially… free!”

His pack pulled him into a four-way hug, as Dorea smiled warmly.

“Kreacher.”

The house-elf popped into the room. “Fetch Harry for me. Tell him to bring along any allies he thinks are ready to know the full story. We have a party to plan!”

Kreacher turned to disappear, but Severus stopped him.

“Oh, and Kreacher. Fetch the bottle we’ve been saving. You know the one. It’s time for a celebration!”

The entire house had rung with laughter and celebration for the rest of the day. At first, it was limited to the upstairs Family, but then the rest of the Order arrived. To keep the Family cover intact, those who were officially known to be in residence – Sirius, Remus, Harry, Ginny, and the twins – thundered down the stairs to spread the news and keep the visitors busy. Before long, Mrs. Weasley was frantically baking in an attempt to supplement the leftovers from the Yule celebration with new treats. Sirius had brought up a number of bottles from the Black cellars, and the adults were getting drunk on Elf-wine and Firewhiskey. 

Fred and George had managed to hit Sirius with a charm that decked him in flashing red and gold, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Indeed, everyone had at least a little extra sparkle in their dress at that point. With so much to celebrate, how could they not want to party!

Eventually, Sirius and Harry both returned to the relative peace of the upstairs parlour, where Regulus still rested.

As he watched the two dark haired teens scheme, Sirius just wanted to drink it all in. The Dark Bastard gone, his brother restored, and his freedom assured.

Now there were only two things left to do; deal with Umbridge… and Dumbledore.


	30. Letter Interlude: Next Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the Wizarding World falls deeper into the 1st Voldemort War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's letter is pretty short, requiring only two images. As always, images are followed by the plain text version of the letter.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

February 10th, 1977

Mum,

Did we lose anyone in the latest rash of attacks?

The rumours here at Hogwarts have been little help.

Several students were pulled from classes. They haven’t yet returned to the school. Dumbledore did make a barebones announcement at dinner: a series of attacks were made by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Those absent have family affected by the attacks. Everyone has been huddling together in groups for comfort and safety.

I’m particularly worried because Jamie disappeared after lunch. Peter did as well, but I don’t have the connection to his family that I do to the Potters. I’ve been assuming that if it were Uncle Charlus or Aunt Dorea I’d have been summoned as well. That still leaves Aunt Phee and Uncle Monty.

Sev mentioned that there was a great deal of discussion of targets and timing for future attacks during the Death Eater meeting that he attended over break.

I guess this is it… War.

Sirius


	31. Taking Direction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting with Dumbledore... and threats from a Toad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed Harry's relationship with the Dursleys here, especially Dudley, because I think that with other examples keeping him from being a bully he could be a very different boy than in canon.

“Harry, my dear boy.”

Albus Dumbledore’s effusive greeting made Harry want to cringe.

Ever since Uncle Remy had mentioned that the Headmaster had been lovers with Grindelwald back in the day, Harry had found himself reading the worst in the old man’s turn-of-phrase. While Harry was quite certain that Dumbledore’s intentions were not physically motivated, his choice of words did lead Harry’s mind to disturbing places. Ugh…

Suppressing his involuntary reflex, Harry turned, eyed the man seated across the desk from him, and nodded. “Headmaster,” he added in a polite but non-committal tone.

“I am sure that you are wondering why I have summoned you for a meeting so soon after your return to Hogwarts.”

Harry gave another, shallower nod, glancing deliberately off to one side as if distracted by one of the Headmaster’s collections of shiny objects. He wasn’t in the mood to fend off a Legilimancy probe today.

Thankfully, that didn’t seem to be the ancient Wizard’s intention. Instead, his questioning was purely verbal.

“While I did not want to disturb your holidays, especially when it seemed that the festivities at Headquarters went quite well. Now that you have returned, however, I felt that it was important to assess your state of mind. Have you had any further visions, or has your view of the attack on Arthur Weasley proven to be a singular event? It is most important that we remain watchful in this uncertain time. Voldemort could attack at any moment.”

This time, Dumbledore’s words had Harry smothering a snicker.

_Not likely,_ he thought.

“Sorry Headmaster, I haven’t seen anything since that night,” was his replay.

“Good, good,” Dumbledore nodded, pleased. “I am glad to hear it. However, I must admit some concern. If you can see such things, can our enemy do the same in reverse? We cannot risk Voldemort gaining information through your connection.”

To that end, I have arranged for some supplemental lessons for this term. You will be learning how to protect your mind.”

Had he been a dog, Harry’s ears would have perked up. He knew the type of lessons that Dumbledore was speaking about. _Who will he propose as a teacher? I can’t imagine that he’d risk his own precious hide._

“There is a special branch of Magic known as Mind Magic. Practitioners of this art learn to control both their own minds and thoughts, as well as read and control the minds of others. I regret to say that given all of the duties that I must fulfill I am unable to provide instruction myself. Instead, I have arranged for another teacher. There is one other Master of Mind Magic here at the school, and he has agreed to provide private lessons.”

“Who is it?” Harry asked, though inside he was snickering. He knew exactly where this was going.

“Professor Snape.”

“S-snape! What? No, Professor, he hates me!” With his stuttered words, Harry reinforced the impression that he’d already worked to build up over the years. As far as the Headmaster knew, Harry and Severus were, at best, reluctant allies. _Not exactly the ideal pairing for such an intimate course of study,_ Harry thought, _though the old chess master likely wouldn’t even consider such… trivialities._

“Nonsense,” Severus could never hate one of his students. He may have… disliked your father and his friends, but that is all in the past.”

Harry snorted. “Yeah right, Professor. Sniv- I mean Snape has been tormenting me since my very first potions class.”

Dumbledore’s face grew thunderous. “You will address the Professor with appropriate respect. I will not have you following your godfather’s bad example.”

Harry rolled his eyes. That was priceless.

“Regardless of your feelings, Professor Snape will be instructing you in the art of Occlumency, the practice of mental shielding. To protect his cover as Voldemort’s loyal servant, you will tell everyone that your sessions together are, in fact, a remedial Potions detention. Am I understood?”

Harry grumbled under his breath, making inappropriate remarks that he knew Dumbledore could understand.

“I said. Am. I. Understood?”

“Yes. Sir.” Harry finally said with a huff, folding his arms across his chest.

“Good. Now then, there is another matter that we must discuss.”

Dumbledore eyed Harry’s frowning form with displeasure. The twinkle in his eyes had disappeared during their argument.

“I am certain that with the recent public declaration of Sirius Black’s innocence and formal restitution provided by the Ministry, he has been pressuring you to move in with him permanently.”

“Yeah, and…?” Harry said dismissively. “He is my godfather, after all.”

“My dear boy, I find that I must insist that you remain with your current guardians. It wouldn’t do to reject the protection that your Mother died to give you, would it?”

Deep inside his mind, Harry was torn between smirking at Dumbledore’s belief that his incompetent guardianship arrangement had been maintained for all those years and fuming at the blatant attempt to make him feel guilty.

“What does where I stay have to do with,” Harry forced his eyes to water, “… my mum?”

Seeing Harry’s tears as a sign of surrender, Dumbledore’s face resumed its pleasant demeanor. He flashed Harry his customary avuncular smile. “Do you not recall what I once told you, after the affair with Quirrell, about your mother’s protection?”

Feigning reluctance, Harry nodded.

“That protection is maintained by the fact that you live with your mother’s loving family…”

Despite his best efforts, this time Harry simply couldn’t hold in his snort of disbelief.

Aunt Petunia hated him for what he represented; the loss of her sister and the fact that Lily had gotten something she didn’t. Meanwhile, Uncle Vernon tolerated his presence only when he could parlay the Family’s Mundane wealth and power to his advantage. Dudley was okay, he supposed, but that was only because between Harry, Remus, and Dorea – the only Family that the Dursleys had met – they had kept his parents from spoiling him too terribly.

In fact, as a child, Dudley had often tried to talk the Blacks into taking him with them. That was usually after they spent their monthly weekend at the Dursley residence. Dudley’d only managed it a couple of times when Petunia and Vernon had a ‘business opportunity’ and ‘Aunt’ Marge wasn’t available to child sit. Still, unlike his parents, Dudley had embraced the Wizarding World.

He had been looking for ways to interact with that world since he was very little. Lately, his plan was to get a job working for one of the Blacks’ Mundane/Magical crossover businesses when he finished his A-levels. He had already spoken with Remus and Dorea, getting their approval for his scheme. Harry knew that he would have had Dudley over to Grimmauld in back in August if it hadn’t been for their other guests. This whole affair with Voldemort had just put a hold on the young Squib’s ambitions.

“Now Harry, my boy, I am sure that your family loves you,” Dumbledore continued speaking. He had ignored Harry’s scoff, just as he did any hint that the Dursley residence wasn’t a happy place, “and besides, you only need stay for two more summers before you come of age.”

“I… I guess,” Harry said hesitantly. He knew that it would make the old goat suspicious if he folded too quickly.

“Wonderful. I will just inform Sirius of your decision then,” Dumbledore beamed as he shuffled papers on his desk. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have much to do. School is back in session, things are happening at the Ministry, and then there is the Order and the War. Run along now, and join your friends in the Tower, my boy.”

Harry managed to maintain his façade of petulant fury until he was out of sight of the Griffin that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster’s tower. Then he burst out in peals of laughter. Oh, that was… priceless.

He just had to get up to his room and call Siri and Reggie. They would get such a kick out of it.

A few days later, Harry’s mood wasn’t quite so cheerful.

Umbridge had just finished using his DADA class to launch a diatribe about how Wizards and Witches should always abide by the orders of the Ministry and never take the law into their own hands.

Knowing that the target of Umbridge’s fury was the recent Wizengamut ruling declaring his godfather innocent despite his escape from Azkaban, Harry had refused to sit mildly by and let her trash Sirius. He had ended up in a screaming match with the noxious toad and only avoided drawing wands thanks to the efforts of his friends.

“Harry, mate,” Ron had said, his hand on one arm, “it’s not worth it.”

“Yeah,” Neville had agreed. “Besides,” he had leaned in to whisper, “you know she’s going down soon.”

“Fine,” Harry had grumbled, reclaiming his seat.

“Mister Potter. It goes without saying that I will be seeing you in detention tonight directly following dinner. I will also be having a discussion with the Headmaster and your Head of House. Such disrespect for authority simply WILL. NOT. DO!” Umbridge had almost spat the last few words, a direct contrast to the usually affected voice that she utilized.

“Now,” she had smoothed her robes in an attempt to regain composure, though she maintained her look of fury. “Since your classmate has so rudely interrupted us, we will continue our discussion, focusing on the extensive list of magics that the Ministry has forbidden for use by the average Witch or Wizard. I expect you all to come prepared to listen, as I will accept no further disrespect in MY students.”

None of the students had moved, uncertain as to what was supposed to happen next. “You heard me. You’re dismissed.”

In a rush, the 5th year Gryffindors and Slytherins had shoved their books, parchment, and ink in their bags and hurried out of the room.

Once outside, a significant fraction of the class gathered around the now calm Harry.

“That was rough,” Hermione breathed, and all those around agreed. “Did you hear her, some of what she said was borderline illegal, not to mention completely inappropriate. Can you imagine what would happen if no one was allowed to defend themselves legally against accusations!”

“Seriously Granger,” Draco drawled, using the excuse of the crowd to give Harry’s shoulder a pat. “I never thought that I’d be agreeing with you, but that simpering toad is just…” He shook his head. “I know I probably say this too much, but I really think that I have to speak to my father about this.”

There were a few muffled snickers at that comment. While Draco had stepped back on his habit of using his father and name to get his way back in their second year, the phrase was still burnt into the collective consciousness of his year mates.

“Yes,” Theo Nott agreed from his place on the perimeter of the group, “if the Ministry thinks that a few fines make up for imprisoning a named Heir of a notable house like Black without a trial, then just think what they might think is acceptable behaviour toward the rest of you.”

“Potter, if that woman tries anything this evening, it is your responsibility to inform the rest of us,” Draco added, projecting his voice to make sure all those gathered heard. “I know that the Prefects and Head Boy and Girl have been dealing with the detention situation so far, but this one could be especially ugly.”

“Will do, Malfoy,” Harry agreed with a nod. During the break, the pair had agreed to begin publically mending fences using Sirius as an excuse to the non-Family students. They had decided that the best approach was allying against a mutual enemy – the Ministry – or at least that was how Draco would be selling it to the other Slytherins.

Instead of heading down to lunch with the others, Harry made his way up to the dorms, where he grabbed his communications mirror.

“Sirius Black,” he called.

Instead of his godfather, it was Regulus who answered the call.

“Hello Harry,” he said.

“Hey Reg, good to see you. Is Siri around?”

“Sorry, no. He and Remus are out at the Leaky celebrating and shocking the Natives,” the two boys exchanged a smirk.

“Of course he is,” Harry said with a roll of his eyes. “He’s been looking forward to rubbing things in people’s faces for years.”

“That’s Siri in a single Charm. He may have chosen to sort Gryff, but their brash mentality has certainly infected him.”

“Hey, I resent that!” Harry said.

Both boys laughed.

“I assume since its lunchtime that you called for a reason?”

“Yeah, unfortunately,” Harry made a face. “Let’s just say that class with Umbridge did not go well.”

“Did you hex her?”

“Sadly… No.”

“Then I’d say it went better than expected. I’ll be collecting my winnings from Siri later.”

“Reg!”

“What, I knew you had better self-control than my twin. He wouldn’t have been able to stop.”

Harry sighed. “You know it’s weird you calling him that with the apparent age difference.” Then he added, “I totally would have shot off a hex, but my friends kept me from doing it. I did get into a screaming match with her, though. I have ‘detention’ after dinner tonight, and she mentioned meeting with McGonagall and Dumbledore.”

Reg frowned in thought, and Harry nodded. “I was thinking that if it goes as I expect, it might be a good idea for Siri to be present.”

“Good thinking, Harry,” Regulus said easily.

The younger boy flushed. For some reason, the compliment felt different coming from Reg than it did from anyone else.

“I’ll let him know when they get back. How do you want to handle it? Him barging in, or do you want him to wait until they call?”

Harry thought for a moment. “Let’s be subtle and wait for the summons. I’ll just refuse to discuss things without Siri present; use the ‘he’s my godfather’ excuse.”

“That sounds like a good plan. I wish I could be more help, but I’m still officially ‘dead’, you know.”

“I know. I don’t think this is the right time for the big reveal yet.”

“No. Oh, but keep the mirror with you for the rest of the day. That way we’ll be ready for rapid arrival if the toad attempts anything before the meeting.”

“Will do.”

Checking the watch that Uncle Remus had given him the summer before Hogwarts, Harry realized that if he hurried he could grab something before lunch ended. Being a hungry teenage boy, he was certainly glad for the option.

Despite being on tenterhooks all afternoon, nothing exciting happened. It appeared that Umbridge had yet to inform the other staff members of the morning’s events.

_Perhaps she has a plan for tonight that needs to happen before the meeting?_ Harry thought. Then he snapped his fingers. _The Blood Quill pages. She must be planning something with them._

With that reminder, Harry went up to his room before dinner. He had forgotten about taking a closer look at the parchment sheets she’d used on his first detention.

Fortunately, a simple _revelio_ was enough to reveal the contract written on the back of the parchment. If Umbridge had managed to place a seal on the page imbued with his magic and blood, there would have been a problem. The contract named her as his Guardian in perpetuity, giving her authority over his political power and finances. Failure to ‘Respect her Authority’ could have cost him a part or all of his Magic!

“Kreacher,” Harry called.

The Black house-elf appeared, accompanied by one of the Hogwarts house-elves.

“Young wizard should be knowing better,” the Hogwarts house-elf scolded. “Family elves be not permitted to serve their young masters at Hoggy-warts. That is being our jobs, it is.”

“I apologize for the necessity,” Harry said, giving a short bow that made the elf’s eyes bulge in surprise. “I am afraid that I have a family emergency requiring a secure messenger. Kreacher will only be delivering a message to my Family, nothing more.”

“Very well,” the house-elf grumbled, “but we be knowing if this elf returns.” It disappeared with a pop.

Harry turned to Kreacher. “I think I know Umbridge’s game plan, but it relies on this,” he waved the rolled-up scroll at his house-elf, “parchment. I don’t want to risk it staying here at Hogwarts, as it is certainly dangerous to the Family in general and me in particular. If you can snap me up a non-Magical copy, I’ll hold on to that one instead. Give this to Sirius, he’ll be able to figure out the… MONSTROUS BITCH’s plan from it. Tell him that I’m going to play along until the meeting with Dumbledore, and then he is to dual-cast at her.”

Kreacher nodded. “I is being doing that, Young Master,” he said before snapping up the requested copy. Then he hesitated. “You is being certain you is being safe in meeting with Toady-Witch without Dog-master or one of the others?”

“I’ll be fine, and I have my mirror handy in case of emergency,” Harry replied, giving Kreacher a sharp-toothed grin. “Besides, I have been… WAITING for this.”

“Kreacher is not being happy, but Kreacher must be obeying Masters, he does,” Kreacher said, and disappeared.

After dinner in the Great Hall, Harry made his way up to the pink monstrosity that was the DADA professor’s office. Knocking on the closed door, he received a sickly sweet, “Come in,” as a reply.

Walking inside, Harry was greeted by Umbridge, already seated behind her desk working on some kind of paperwork.

“Hello, Mister Potter. You’re right on time,” she said, gesturing toward the same chair he had sat on during his first visit to her office. “Have a seat. I’m just finishing up a few things in preparation for this meeting.”

Recognizing the trick as something that he’d read about in one of his grandmother’s Muggle books, the one about psychology, Harry did his best to remain calm as he waited. Her ‘hem’s and murmurs as she worked didn’t help matters. He was almost ready to burst with frustration when she set aside the final parchment.

Looking him square in the eye, she gave him a wide, malicious grin. She looked like a toad who had just managed to nab a fly.

“Now then, Mister Potter. You know why you are here, do you not?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harry was going to do his best to behave inoffensively, just in case he had to submit the memory for Pensieve inspection later.

“Good,” if anything her smile grew wider. Her mouth appeared to expand until the corners nearly reached her hairline.

“Now then,” she held up the faked Blood Quill pages. “If you remember, back in September you wrote lines in my detention. Do you remember what you wrote?”

Unconsciously, he rubbed the back of his right hand as he spoke. “I will respect those in authority.”

She nodded. “And do you think that your behaviour this morning followed the order given in that line?”

“I suppose not,” he said, hesitantly.

“Then you violated the contract,” she explained, maintaining her disturbing grin. “Now I am sure you remember how unique the quill you used that evening happened to be.”

“It – it used my blood.” Harry replied, acting as if he didn’t know about Blood Quills.

“It did indeed. Did you know,” she added almost conversationally, leaning back in her chair, “that in the Wizarding World blood is linked to magic?”

He shook his head.

“It is. In writing with that quill, you Magically signed a contract to abide by the words you wrote. That contract was made to me. Now, if I want to I can choose to enforce the contract. Do you know what will happen if I do?”

This time, Harry didn’t bother to hide his wince as he shook his head. He knew very well what she could have done if she had gotten her way back then.

“The punishment for such a violation is the loss of part of your Magic. Given how many times you wrote that night, it is likely that the amount of Magic you would lose would be substantial. You could even end up a Squib or worse.”

Harry stared at her. He couldn’t believe that she was stating things so baldly. Did she really believe that she could get away with crippling the ‘boy-who-lived’?

“But…” _ah, blackmail._ “I don’t have to do so.” She smiled again. “I trust that we understand each other?”

Harry gulped and nodded, his mind awhirl.

“Good. Now, then, I think instead of making you do something like write lines this time I’ll just let you think a bit about consequences.” She paused. “I trust that I will not see a repeat of this morning’s behaviour in the future?”

He shook his head.

“Off you go, then,” she said with a wave of her hand. Then she paused, as if thinking. “Also, we will be meeting with the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall tomorrow morning, where you will inform them that you behaved inappropriately. You will then give me a formal apology and accept any punishment that the three of us decide to levy.” With that, she waved him off again.

Harry stood to leave. He had made it as far as the door before she spoke once more.

“One more thing,” she told him. “If you say anything about this to anyone else, I will be forced to enforce the contract. Is that understood?”

Harry gave a final, reluctant nod. Then he opened the door, passed through it, and shut it behind him.

Without a word, he swiftly strode through the halls to the corridor that held the Room of Requirement, ignoring the curious stares of the other students he passed on the way. A few passes in front of the portrait later, and the door appeared. Once he was inside, in a room that matched the one he’d created back in October, he let out a scream of pure rage.

“Harry,” the muffled voice of Sirius emerged from the satchel that he’d dumped on the floor. “Are you still there?”

Reaching inside the bag, the teen pulled out his communications mirror, which had been left active for the meeting.

“Siri, did you catch all of that?” Harry asked tightly.

The view inside the mirror expanded to show not just Sirius, but the rest of the Family.

“We all heard,” Remus replied, his voice shaking with suppressed rage. “Don’t worry about it; we’ve already neutralized the parchment you sent with Kreacher. I’m sure you already figured it out, but her threats are meaningless, not that SHE knows that.”

Harry nodded.

Sirius resumed speaking. “We’ve already discussed it, and we all agree. We’ll wait until the meeting with Dumbledore and McGonagall tomorrow, but then, the WITCH is going down.”


	32. Letter Interlude: Careers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aurors, Vigilantes, and Spies - plus disturbing similarities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first of the post-Hogwarts letters. As always, the images are followed by plain text versions.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

November 15th, 1977

Dear Mum,

I have now completed the first stage of Academy training. That means that I’ve been assigned my Auror Mentor. I would need a report: Can you get me everything that the Family has in their collection?

His name is Rufus Scrimgeour.

So far, I can tell that he is ambitious; I believe his long-term goal is to reach a high-level Ministry position (maybe even Minister of Magic). He is clearly using the DMLE as his springboard.

He’s also a fierce duellist and I think he will be able to help me refine my battle skills. I expect that he’ll serve me well as a mentor, given the current climate.

I have to say, working within the DMLE; it’s interesting to observe how both the ‘Dark Lord’ and the ‘Light Lord’ are using fear to try to recruit the public to their point of view.

Voldemort and his followers publically demand that the Wizarding public adhere to isolationist pureblood ideals or else. Specifically, they expect shunning of Muggleborns and anyone else who tries to introduce mundane ideas, people or things to the Wizarding World. They use threats to back up their demands. That includes carrying out attacks to demonstrate their sincerity.

Dumbledore and his political allies on the other hand use fear mongering in another way. They are trying to convince the public that since Voldemort and his followers promote isolationist pureblood politics, anyone who follows the same politics is also ‘evil’.

Sev and I have compared notes on the Order meetings versus the Death Eater meetings and they are scarily alike in tone. This is despite the differences in their methods and political ideologies.

Regardless of which side wins, those of us in the middle will lose.

I know that those of us in the younger generation are stuck dealing with this bloody mess. I need you to encourage the elder generation to protect the Black Family heritage so the survivors of the conflict can rebuild, regardless of the outcome of the War.

Sirius


	33. Set Up for Annihilation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making preparations for the takedown of a certain pink-obsessed Witch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll note that there's a direct tie-in between the letter in the last chapter and the events here.

“Oof, get off me, you big lump.”

Sirius shoved at Remus, who had followed him through the fireplace back from the Leaky Cauldron too quickly. As a result, he had collided with his friend on arrival, knocking them both to the floor of Grimmauld’s ballroom near the Floo. 

“I’m not on you,” Remus protested, even as he rolled over and climbed to his feet. “You’re just a lazy prat.”

“Fine. I’m lazy, I admit it. Just help me up, would you Moons?” Holding out his arms, he fed Remus his best puppy-dog eyes.

In response, the other Wizard rolled his eyes in exasperation. None the less, he did bend down and grab Sirius’ outstretched arms, helping him to his feet.

“I don’t know why I indulge you this way, Pads,” he said with a grin.

Remus’ teasing was interrupted when Regulus came careening through the door.

“Wha… Reggie, you’re downstairs! What are you doing down here, someone could see you.”

Regulus rolled his eyes even as he hurried over to Sirius’ side. “Don’t worry, I had Kreacher check before I came down. There’s no one else in the house.”

Grabbing his older brother’s arm, he dragged him upstairs, with Remus following close behind.

“Siri, we have a situation.” The serious tone in Regulus’ voice was enough for the pair of joking Wizards to shake off their light-hearted mood. By the time they reached Sirius’ study, they were all business.

“What is it, Reg? You look okay, so it must be someone else. Who is it, Sev, Aunt Dory?”

“It’s Harry. Wait, wait, wait,” Regulus held out a hand when Sirius would have charged out the door. “It’s not urgent; we’ve got plenty of time before you’re needed. Harry just had a bit of an… incident… this morning and wanted us on call for the fall-out.”

“This morning?”

“DADA class.”

“Ah,” Sirius’ confusion cleared up, though his frown did not. They knew that the bitch was a problem. Still, it was sooner than they had planned. The Family Black was still gathering data, wanting to make sure that their take-down was foolproof before they acted. Despite their success, Narcissa’s choice to accelerate their plans for Tom Riddle had run contrary to the Family’s normal practices.

“What happened?”

“I didn’t get all the details. Apparently, she’s not happy about your new status, and decided to use Harry’s class as the platform in which to declaim that fact.”

“Let me guess, Harry took it the wrong way?”

Regulus’ smirk made Sirius nostalgic for the Black brothers’ days at Hogwarts. “He blew his top. Fortunately, his friends stopped him before hexes were thrown, but still.”

“So, detention?”

“Detention. Tonight. Plus a possible meeting with Dumbledore and McGonagall. He wants you to be ready to intercede if needed but to not step in until then.”

“Got it.”

“You’re not just going to sit back and wait, are you?”

Sirius snorted.

“Right, of course not,” Regulus answered his own question. “I should have known that was rhetorical.”

“Remus, contact Nym. Tell her that we need her files on the Umbridge investigation ASAP.” Sirius spoke, ignoring his brother’s comments.

“Sure Pads,” Remus replied as he left the room.

“Nym?” Regulus asked.

“Yeah. I put her in charge of investigating the toad after Aunt Dory did the initial analysis into her source of power. We know that she uses blackmail; that was easy to discover. The more difficult question was where she keeps her metaphorical philosopher’s stone. The obvious place would be her vault at Gringotts but given her disdain for creatures, it was possible that she wouldn’t trust their security.”

“When I last checked in, she had a lead on a property that belonged to the Umbridge family back in the day. The toad would have inherited it after her younger half-brother’s so-called accident. He died during the early part of the Riddle conflict.” 

“And you think she might have stuff stashed there.”

“That’s what we’re thinking. We know that she has no limits in terms of using illegal means, including but not limited to Blood Magic, given the mess with the Blood Quill. She would know better than to risk stashing such things in her regular home. Hopefully, she has the information stored with the rest of her collection.”

Remus padded back into the room as the pair spoke, and leaned against the doorframe. He was calm as he waited for the brothers to finish their discussion.

“Did you get a hold of her?” Sirius asked, glancing at his friend.

“Yes. She’s stuck at work, though, so if we want the files someone is going to have to go over there.”

When Sirius looked confused, Remus reminded him. “You’re not a fugitive anymore. I don’t have to be your errand boy.”

That made Sirius grin, his new status was still a joyful novelty.

“Fine. I’ll leave you two brats here, how about that?”

He paused.

“Though, can you two contact the rest of the Family and let them know what’s going on. I’d like to get a group on standby in case we need to do something… drastic.”

Then Sirius headed out the door of the office. As he headed for the Floo, he was halted by a fussing Kreacher.

“Dog Master be knowing better,” Kreacher muttered as he snapped his fingers. With the house-elf’s snap, Sirius’ dishevelled hair and clothes straightened, becoming more presentable. A second snap and a casual robe came flying out of Sirius’ room.

“Impressions are being important, Master is knowing this,” Kreacher scolded.

“Sorry, Kreach,” Sirius replied, embarrassed. “The past few years of playing slightly unhinged, escaped prisoner for the benefit of Dumbledore’s allies have let me pick up a few bad habits. You just keep reminding me when I am about to…”

“Kreacher will,” the house-elf assured him. “Dog Master is now being Lord Black in public. That is being important,” he added as Sirius shrugged into the robe.

Even a casual observer would be able to see how Sirius’ body language changed at that moment. He was taking up the role that his Mother and Grandfather had trained him to carry, the proud pureblood Lord. The Family Black was poised to reclaim the public prominence that they’d sacrificed in dealing with the combination of Dumbledore and Riddle and their foolish War.

Now properly prepared, Sirius used the family Floo to travel to the Ministry of Magic, arriving in the atrium with a whirl.

It took a few minutes, but as he strode through the marble hall making his way towards the Wand Check and the elevators, Sirius could easily track who had identified him. The flabbergasted faces, with hints of fear in some, joy in others, and even fury in a select company all made him grin. It was good to be back.

Strutting up to the desk, he informed the clerk, “Lord Sirius Black, here to visit the DMLE.”

The check-in Wizard gulped but managed to muster his courage. “If you would place your wand on the sensor, sir, I can issue your visitor’s pass.”

“But of course,” Sirius said smoothly. “I remember the procedure from my time here.” He leaned forward and added, “I got stuck working this desk more than a few times back in the day.” He took care to project his words out so that the eavesdroppers could easily hear. Reminding people that he had once been a successful Hit Wizard and worked for the Ministry could only help with the Family’s plans.

“Th-thank you, sir,” the young Wizard replied as he handed over a pass stamped with the DMLE’s logo. _He couldn’t be much past Hogwarts age_ , Sirius thought as he smiled. “You can reclaim your wand. J-just make sure to keep the pass on your person at all times while you’re in the building, sir.”

Sirius nodded, heading for the bank of lifts that stood behind the check-in desks. He absently slid the pass into one of the pockets that Kreacher had ensured were present in all of his robes as he walked. Boarding the first lift that opened after he arrived, he turned to look out on the atrium as he waited for the doors to close.

As he waited, he caught a glimpse of a camera-man, and – was that Rita Skeeter? – heading in his direction before the lift began its ascent.

Looking down, Sirius hid his shark-like grin from the Witches and Wizards who shared the lift with him. _Excellent._ He thought. _All this attention will be useful._

When Sirius reached the floor housing the **Department of Magical Law-Enforcement** , he stepped out of the lift and into a space filled with both Witches and Wizards. Central Dispatch for the Auror corps was a busy place, the front end of the Department. The area in front of the lifts was designated as the main desk, manned by on-call Aurors and junior staff ready to handle reports coming in from the Wizarding public.

Behind the front desk, a short hall led to the main ‘Nogpen’, a large open area filled with desks, where the investigative Aurors did office-work. Off to the sides of the Nogpen were breakrooms, interview spaces, meeting rooms, the archives, and even a bank of cells for short-term guests. At the far back stood the private offices belonging to the upper levels of the DMLE, including the Department Head, Deputy Head, Head Auror, and his Senior Aurors.

Sirius’ old stomping grounds, the Hit Wizard squad, had their own space on the floor below. While technically a part of the DMLE, their purview was incidents that crossed over with another department – from the **Department of International Magical Cooperation** and the ICW to the **Office of Muggle Affairs** to the **Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures**. They were also the ones called in when the actual battles were expected.

_However,_ Sirius thought, shaking his head, _today’s mission was here at the main DMLE floor._

“Hello, Maryann,” he said with a smile, greeting the elderly Witch seated behind the main desk. Maryann Scrivencraft had been the senior Witch on the DMLE’s secretarial staff for decades. She had been a major presence during Sirius’ time in service.

Back in the day, he had used to flirt and act friendly with the older woman. As such, she had been a powerful ally in keeping him informed and cared for during that time. He hoped that she still remembered him fondly, especially given the public restoration of his good name.

“Sirius, dear,” she beamed.

_Goodwill remaining. Check._

“When I heard the news I just couldn’t believe it. I mean, I had always had my doubts about what happened back then. It seemed so impossible that you could betray anyone like that, but especially,” she sniffed, “poor James. And then, thirteen years in Azkaban with no trial! Oh, my poor boy, of course, you had to escape.”

Coming around the desk, she embraced him in a solid hug, squeezing until his ribs creaked.

“You really are far too skinny these days. Just let me know where to send them and I’ll fix you up with a batch of my famous shortbread, you always did like those.”

“Thanks, Maryann. Um… well, you could send it with my little cousin Nymie… I mean Auror Tonks. She visits me regularly.”

“Of course! I remember you telling me stories about your little cousin, I just never matched them to Auror Tonks. I suppose I should have given the rarity of Metamorphmagi, but you know how it is.”

Reaching up and placing a hand on his cheek, she smiled once more. “It really is good to see you, Sirius dear. Now then, I’m assuming that you’re not just here to visit with little old me. What can I do for you?”

“Actually, I am here to visit, sort of. I needed to get out of the house, you know, avoid the feeling of too many walls,” Sirius shuddered. While he had mostly recovered from his time in Azkaban, he had no problem playing up the side effects of his stay for sympathy. “Anyways, I knew that Auror Tonks had a lunch break around now, so I thought that I’d stop in and see if I can steal her away from her desk.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet of you. Go ahead and head on back, I know that you know your way around back there.”

“Thanks again, Maryann,” Sirius said, and then jumped. The old flirt had just pinched his arse!

_Forgot how much she likes doing that._ _Merlin damn those handsy old biddies._

“See you later, dear,” she replied as she returned to her seat behind the desk. Beside her, a wide-eyed young Wizard who had been watching bore an expression that was somewhere between shock and sympathetic horror. Clearly, the poor boy had not yet adjusted to Maryann’s perverted sense of humour. He’d learn.

“Sirius Black!” The gruff greeting interrupted Sirius’ conversation with Tonks.

He turned, and there with his mane in fine form, stood Sirius’ old mentor, now Head Auror, Rufus Scrimgeour.

“Rufus. Good to see you, old man.” Sirius responded, pleased for many reasons. Rufus Scrimgeour was the other person that he’d hoped to see during his visit. In fact, the fuss down in the atrium and out at the main desk with Maryann had been, in part, meant to lure out his former mentor.

The Lion of the DMLE could be a powerful ally in his takedown of Umbridge. That was if she didn’t already have him wrapped up in her net.

Just like the predator whose nickname he carried, it appeared that the Head Auror had entered the Nogpen in an attempt to satisfy his curiosity.

This visit was the first chance that Sirius had had to see the other Wizard since his arrest in ’81. The Official interview that had gained him his pardon a couple of weeks before had been conducted by Madame Bones, the Director, with Kingsley Shacklebolt sitting in as the attending Auror.

“I wonder, Sirius. Could I steal you away from young Tonks there for just a moment?”

“Sure.”

With a nod to Tonks, who gave him a grin in response, Sirius tucked the packet that she’d handed him into the expanded storage in his robe’s pocket. Then he followed the older Wizard into his office.

Once the door was shut and its privacy spells initialized, Rufus turned to Sirius and gave him a brief, but powerful, embrace. “It really is excellent to see you, Sirius,” he said. “You’re looking quite well for a man who spent over a decade in Azkaban.”

“Yes, well, innocence is a powerful tool in fighting off the Dementors’ aura,” Sirius said with a wink.

Many of the luxuries that the Family had arranged to make Sirius’ stay in Azkaban less unbearable had been brought in with Scrimgeour’s help. The man had used his influence inside the DMLE to ensure that Sirius’ gifts arrived in his cell and had kept the guards looking the other way for the duration of his stay.

“Yes, well, unfortunately, it was all that I could do. The Ministry at that time…”

“I know. I wouldn’t have wanted you to waste all the political capital that you’d accrued back then on an impossible task. It was much more useful for us both to have you continue building on the foundation you’d already established. You’ve certainly managed your career growth well since the War.”

The pair exchanged a smirk of mutual recognition.

“Speaking of, what really brings the notorious Sirius Black into my domain?”

“Two words. Dolores Umbridge.”

Rufus winced. “What has that - **_bitch_** \- done now?”

“I take it that you’re not a fan?” Sirius asked, lifting an eyebrow. Seeing Rufus’ grimace, he nodded.

“Nasty little toad isn’t she? Well, as you know, she is currently ensconced at Hogwarts, playing games with the Headmaster. However, you may not know that she also decided to target my godson. She wants to control the-boy-who-lived.”

At that, Rufus blanched. “Merlin forbid! That Witch already has enough… influence. She certainly doesn’t need any more.”

“You know her game, then?”

“She has substantial leverage over several of my Aurors, some otherwise excellent Witches and Wizards. I know that she’s used that knowledge to corrupt a number of investigations, but I can’t touch her, especially not without ruining their careers. Beyond her interference here, I know that she used some of her tools to gain her current position as Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Not Fudge directly, that man is far too good at covering his arse, but several of his backers.”

“Ah. I had wondered,” Sirius mused as he tapped his lips with a finger.

“Hypothetically,” he commented apparently absently, “if you were to hear that her treasure trove had been eliminated, would you then be able to take her into custody? Especially if someone handed you evidence of illegal ownership and use of enchanted Blood Magic objects?”

Rufus raised his own brows and then gave a sharp grin.

“I believe that – in that hypothetical case – I might be able to help.”

“Excellent. Well then, I have a few more errands to run this afternoon. However, I was hoping that you might like to join me for dinner this evening. Remus and I would love the company.”

“Living with your old friend while you adjust?”

Sirius nodded.

“Then,” Rufus added as he reached for the doorknob, “I would be delighted to dine with the pair of you. I will meet you at La Trattoria at seven.”

It was late that night when a trio of black-cloaked individuals came tumbling through the Grimmauld Place Floo. Sirius had had a fine dinner out with Rufus, telling stories about Harry and others. He had also had a long mirror call with the aforementioned boy, as Harry had his confrontation with the Toad. At this point, though, with their activities at an end Sirius, Remus, and a still-recovering Regulus were sitting in the family parlour when their visitors showed up.

“Ah, the hunters have returned,” Sirius said with a grin, as the cloaks came off to reveal Tonks, Bill, and a very satisfied looking Severus. “Success?”

“Indeed,” Severus agreed, going over give his husband a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll leave these two to give you the update,” he waved at his team, “as I have to get back to Hogwarts before I’m missed.”

Once he had passed back through the Floo, the trio of waiting Wizards turned towards the others.

“Well?” Regulus asked impatiently.

“The good news,” Tonks said, throwing herself onto an open sofa with a satisfied groan, “is that our assumption of the house outside Brighton being the Umbitch’s storage site was confirmed. We checked with both the diagnostic spells the DMLE taught me and the ones that Bill learned from the Goblins and they indicated that was an absolute treasure trove of Black Magic inside the house.”

“The bad news,” Bill added, taking his own seat, “was that whoever Warded that house for her is a Master. We were unable to break in and retrieve anything from the building. However,” he held up a finger when the listeners were about to comment, “he or she did manage to neglect one aspect of Warding…”

Here Tonks took the narrative back up. “…Fireproofing.”

Three bloodthirsty grins appeared in response at the single, if significant, word.

“We checked, and there was no one living on or near the property. So Severus hit it with a fairly impressive gout of Fiendfyre,” she continued after flashing her own grin. “By the time anyone arrived to investigate our diagnostics indicated that whatever Black Magic had been stored there was destroyed, along with the entire physical structure. Severus had transmuted his Fiendfyre into a more normal Magical blaze, while Tonks here morphed into Bellatrix’s form,” Bill said, patting his partner’s arm; the only part of her body he could reach given their current seating.

“We made sure that witnesses caught a glimpse of her face and laugh, along with two hooded male figures, before we Apparated away. Then, we swung by a Muggle bar near Tonks’ parents’ house, where a couple of our friends had been hanging out, Polyjuiced as us, and had a few drinks. We told Sam and Dean that it was part of a prank, so they had no problem acting as our cover.”

“Excellent job, sir and madam,” Sirius ‘bowed’ to Bill and Tonks, without leaving his seat, “Remus, notify Rita that her article is a go.”


	34. Letter Interlude: Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Regulus' near-death experience, and the fate of Orion Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, the images are followed by the letter text.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

May 11th, 1979

Dear Mum,

Thank you for letting me know what happened with Father and the official version of Reg’s fate. You wouldn’t believe the distorted rumours that have been running rampant around the Ministry and the Order.

I am utterly thrilled not to have lost my twin, even if he is stuck in stasis. I assume that you have made it look like he’s dead in public to protect both him and the Family. Merlin bless old Kreacher for spiriting him away before he could be consumed by Inferi.

Seeing Reg in that state during my visit was hard enough. I can only imagine that it has been even worse for you and Father, having to live with the quasi-corpse of your son. No wonder Father made the choice that he did.

It is nice to know that Reggie’s actions revealed old Tom’s true strength/weakness in one fell swoop. That he’s been making Horcruxes explains some of his recent actions. He doesn’t fear death anymore, and the fracturing of his soul has removed a great deal of his sanity. I’m guessing it’s just getting worse and worse. Poor Sev and Cissa. They’re stuck dealing with that insane monster and his devoted followers on a regular basis.

Even if I can understand Father’s motivation, your news about his sacrifice still came as a distinct surprise. I didn’t realize that he’d ever even thought about those kinds of Ritual Magics. I guess he was feeling useless given the losses that my generation of the Family has taken. Do you know how extensive the protection that his sacrifice placed on us extends? Like, do Remus, Sev, and the others count, or is it only blood Family that fit the bill?

By the way, do you know if Dragon Pox is also being used by others to explain deaths due to Ritual sacrifice? I mean, there’ve been a large number of male Heirs and Lords reported as dying from the illness recently. Abraxas Malfoy, Harfang Longbottom, Uncle Monty, Edward Nott, to name a few.

Most of them have young children in their extended families or their younger generation are involved in the War.

Given Uncle Monty had been struggling since Aunt Phee died last year, I certainly wouldn’t put it past him. I know that he’s been fiercely worried about Jamie and his involvement in the Order. James hasn’t said anything; as far as he knows, his father died of illness. However, I could see Uncle Monty and Uncle Charlus working together to perform the ritual as Father and Grandfather did. 

Meanwhile, I hope that you’re not taking all the recent losses too hard. Know that, regardless of my public behaviour, I will always love you.

You are my Family in both joy and grief,

Sirius Orion Black

_Toujours Pur_


	35. Comeuppance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the takedown of a Toad begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we see the consequences of the Family's actions in the previous main story chapter.

Before breakfast the next morning Harry spread the word to all the Houses.

> _Come to the Great Hall if you want to see the show._

While no one was quite sure what that meant, they all knew that if Harry was saying so, it was bound to be something spectacular. Thus, by the time the owl post arrived, the house tables were almost as full as they were during the feasts.

“I wonder what the occasion is,” Professor McGonagall was heard commenting to her neighbour, Professor Snape. The man merely smirked in response. He knew what was coming.

In contrast, ‘Professor’ Umbridge appeared unmoved by the unusual situation. She sat in her seat at the High table, to which she had added additional flourishes mimicking the Headmaster’s throne, sipping tea and eating a large breakfast. Most students’ eyes avoided her gaze, as she often selected her target for the day during breakfast and no one wanted her attention on them. 

Then came the moment that Harry had been waiting for: the owl-post. Hundreds of owls came in through the upper windows, many of them toting the morning’s Daily Prophet. Across the hall, students and teachers alike opened their newspapers to the sight of a burnt-out building and a headline that read: BRIGHTON MANOR DESTROYED. The article went on to state that the building, owned by the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, Dolores Umbridge, had been the target of an attack by recent Azkaban escapees, the Lestrange trio.

As whispers began running up and down the tables, and many students turned their gaze towards the oblivious Umbridge, she finally caught on to the fact that there was something about her in the paper. Snatching the broadsheet held by her neighbour, Professor Sprout, she read the first few lines and let out a croak of outrage.

That first croak was followed by a long, drawn-out scream of pure fury that shocked even the staff in the room. Her face grew red, and swelled up quite alarmingly, standing out in contrast to her robes. At that point, every person in the room was staring at her.

“How dare they!” she yelled as she came to her feet, shoving her chair away from the table. She started pacing right there in the front of the Great Hall, oblivious to her audience. “Those monsters have ruined everything. And worse, they did it in public!”

It was at that moment that the show was interrupted – or rather changed – as the main doors into the hall swung open with a thud. A cadre of Aurors dressed in their crimson robes of office strode in in a phalanx, rather like the Romans that Harry had read about in History class. At their head was a man that Harry had previously only seen in photos. With the prowl, the wild hair, and the near-snarl on his face, Head Auror Scrimgeour was a perfect fit to his leonine moniker as he strode towards the now frozen Umbridge.

Near the back of the team, Harry spotted his cousin Tonks, who shot him a quick wink before she resumed the stony countenance that the rest of the Aurors bore.

“Dolores Umbridge.” Scrimgeour’s gruff voice was a striking contrast to the croaked outrage of the Witch he addressed. “You are hereby under arrest for innumerable charges of corruption, theft, accepting bribes, interference with Auror investigations, and ownership of illegal Magical objects.”

“You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”

He waved forward the pair of Aurors who stood directly behind him. Harry caught a glimpse of pleased grins on their faces before they sobered. One pulled a pair of Magic-suppressing cuffs out of a pocket of her robes, cuffs that Harry recognized thanks to his rather thorough education and Tonks’ habit of showing off.

At the sight, Umbridge let out a shriek of outrage. “You dare! I am the Senior Undersecretary!”

“Not anymore you aren’t,” Scrimgeour stated. “I confirmed it with Minister Fudge himself this morning. He told me that given the sheer quantity of preliminary evidence gathered there was no way he could allow you to continue in that role even if you manage to avoid a sentence.”

She backed up until her arse collided with the head table, trying to hold off the approaching Aurors through verbal protest. Harry grinned. She definitely didn’t have the Magical power to fight her way out.

Over at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy suddenly spoke up. “But, Professor,” he called, “didn’t you just inform us in class yesterday that it is the responsibility of British Magicals to follow the orders of the Ministry at all times, even if we believe their actions to be incorrect?”

At that, Harry couldn’t help himself anymore. He let out a cackle, which he quickly muffled in his hands. And he wasn’t the only one. A wave of snickers ran through the crowd as Malfoy sat down, clearly satisfied with himself.

“Thank you, Mister Malfoy,” Scrimgeour said, “I appreciate the support, even if your statement is incomplete. It is the responsibility of our citizens to obey the laws of the Ministry. However, citizens also have the legal responsibility to provide evidence when they believe actions taken by the Ministry are in error. Justice is not a question that can be answered in a single moment; it is a process which involves time and the aid of all members of our society.”

While Scrimgeour was speaking, the Aurors had placed the cuffs on Umbridge, confiscating her wand and tucking it into a sealed evidence bag. They had also placed a silencing hex on her, muffling her ongoing protests.

“Auror Dawlish,” Scrimgeour called to one of the waiting Aurors. “Take your squad up to Madam Umbridge’s quarters and office. You are to check for any other illegal items, as well as collect all documents stored in those spaces. They will be examined by the team back at Headquarters. They may provide us with further evidence of her crimes.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dawlish, Tonks and the remaining Aurors headed out, leaving only the original three Aurors and their prisoner at the front of the room. Finally, Scrimgeour turned to Headmaster Dumbledore, who had emerged from the staff entrance to the Great Hall during the chaos.

“Our apologies for disrupting your school, Headmaster. We will do our best to stay out of the way as we continue our investigation. However, I would not expect your Defence Professor returned any time soon.” He gave a brief bow, turning as he did so to indicate that the bow was to the entire audience. “Thank you all for your patience, and if you will excuse me…”

Without another word, Scrimgeour turned, and with Umbridge and her escort following, left the room. As he disappeared through the exit, several students scrambled up to follow at a distance and see where they went.

Harry, on the other hand, was happy to stay where he was. He wanted to see the reactions of the staff.

With Scrimgeour’s exit, the Headmaster hurried over to where Professor McGonagall and Uncle Sev sat. The trio had a whispered discussion before Professor Snape got to his feet and strode out of the room.

“Attention, Everyone,” Dumbledore spoke with a _Sonorou_ s engaged, demanding the attention of the whispering students and staff. “As you have all just witnessed, it appears that our Defence Professor will no longer be able to teach your classes. Therefore, all Defence Against the Dark Arts classes will be cancelled for the day. Please spread the word to those students who are not present here this morning. Expect an announcement either this evening or tomorrow morning regarding all future classes in that subject.”

He hesitated, and then added, “Dismissed.”

Dumbledore’s words led to a renewed bout of noisy conversations, even as many students got up to leave the room.

“Blimey,” Ron commented as they climbed to their feet, “Sirius really knows how to take care of things, doesn’t he?”

Harry had confided what had happened to Ron, Hermione, Neville, and the others after his detention the night before. Then, he had told them that Sirius was handling things.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed with a grin.

The following days brought a flurry of new revelations. Rita Skeeter published the first of a series of articles about the history of Dolores Umbridge, focusing on her childhood and education, including her mediocre performance as a student. In the article, she also mentioned the fact that Umbridge had no advanced schooling beyond a handful of NEWTS, and thus was poorly qualified for the position that she had held at Hogwarts.

The whole thing was a subtle jab at both the Ministry and Dumbledore for letting the woman run roughshod over the community, and worse, the children of Wizarding Britain. Reading the article over, Harry couldn’t help his smirk. There was no way she would be back at Hogwarts, just as the Family Black had planned.

Meanwhile, with her stash destroyed, an increasing number of Witches and Wizards were coming forward to testify against the beleaguered Witch. Each one told stories of misdeeds they were forced to perform on her behalf. A number of them had been under the threat that Umbridge had attempted with Harry and Severus’ Fiendfyre had destroyed the contracts that had held them bound.

At this point, rumour had it that Umbridge’s trial was anticipated to be a public spectacle on the scale of worst of the Death Eater trials in the aftermath of the war. Harry and the rest of the Family couldn’t be more thrilled.

Fortunately for the Headmaster, the arrest of Umbridge happened on a Friday morning. This gave him a couple of extra days to find a replacement for the imprisoned Witch before classes were scheduled to resume.

It was Sunday afternoon when Harry, who was gathered with an inter-House study group in the Great Hall, was greeted by a surprising visitor.

“Remus?” He asked when he spotted the older Wizard strolling towards his study group.

“I’m afraid that it is back to Professor Lupin in public,” Remus replied with a smile.

“Does that mean?” Ginny asked from her seat beside Neville.

Remus nodded. “I’m afraid that you all are going to have to suffer under my teaching once more.”

To his shock, it wasn’t just Harry’s study group who cheered at the news. Rather, nearly everyone present in the Great Hall joined in on the cheer. Even those who had been disturbed upon learning that he was a werewolf had just suffered a term under the Toad Bitch. Thus, they were so glad to be shot of her that their nebulous concerns about the Wizard could be easily disregarded.

“Thank you for your support,” Remus commented as he took a seat beside Harry. “Headmaster Dumbledore initially asked Alastor Moody, since he was the teacher last year. However, Alastor is involved in the task force tracking the Azkaban escapees. He suggested that I would be even more suitable, given I actually taught you all for a year. Besides, I am the one with extensive teaching experience outside of my time at Hogwarts.”

When Remus saw the confusion on many faces, he chuckled. “Did I never mention it during my time here?”

Most people shook their heads.

“Oops. Well, Prongslet already knew this,” he said, ruffling Harry’s hair. “But one of the ways that I supported myself in the past was as a private tutor, either for pre-Hogwarts students or to help with OWL and NEWT preparation.”

“Excellent,” was Hermione’s immediate response. “You were the best teacher we’ve had in DADA, even if Moody was more intimidating with his experience in hunting Dark Wizards.”

“Thanks,” Remus said dryly. “I’ll have to tell him that.”

“Sorry,” she blushed. “I mean, you actually taught us rather than making us read from the terrible textbook or listen to inaccurate, biased lectures like THAT woman.”

There were several murmurs of agreement.

“Speaking of textbooks,” Harry said, gesturing towards the table full of books and scrolls of incomplete assignments. “What are you going to do about Slinkard?”

Remus snorted, “that trash? Burn it, maybe? I already talked Siri into funding the purchase of new, better texts for everyone. I’ll be handing them out in class tomorrow.”

The response to that was a combination of two things: cheers at the dismissal of their old, terrible books and boos at the news of more things to read.

“Unfortunately, I’m afraid that those of you in 5th and 7th years have a bit of a rough time. We have much to do to catch you up for the exams after over four months of wasted time.”

That news definitely incited groans.

“Great,” Ron muttered, disgusted, “more work.”

“Think about it this way,” Harry replied, “it’s protection against the Lestranges and the other escapees as much as anything.”

Everyone agreed, some more reluctantly than others.

“Well then, I have a lot of work to do before tomorrow’s classes, so I’ll leave you all to your work. I just wanted to give you a heads up, Harry, before I showed up unexpectedly at the Head Table tonight.”

“Thanks, Remus – I mean, _Professor Lupin_ ,” Harry said with a grin.

Remus climbed to his feet, and headed out the door, nodding to the prefect on monitor duty as he left.

“Well, that is a bit of luck,” Hermione gushed once Remus left. “I was worried about our chances of passing the OWL, but it sounds like Professor Lupin has an excellent plan in place.” She paused. “I’ll have to adjust my OWL study plan to compensate for the change.”

Late that same evening, Dumbledore summoned Harry to his office for a chat.

“Harry, my dear boy, I wonder, have you had any visions since your return to Hogwarts? I am afraid that Severus has not received a summons from the Dark Lord in some time and we are short on news on that front.”

Harry frowned as his mind whirled. _What should he say?_ Then he recalled a suggestion that Neville had made the other night.

“Well,” Harry said, speaking hesitantly as he pulled blurred images from the ritual into the forefront of his mind, outside of his primary shields. “There was… I mean I didn’t say anything before because it wasn’t like the Vision of Mr. Weasley, but I did have one… dream during the break.”

“Go on,” the Headmaster said, his eyes twinkling as he stared intently at the younger Wizard.

“On the Solstice, I fell asleep in front of the fire,” Harry stated. “While I slept I dreamt of a strange cavern lit with scattered torches. There was a ring of figures in white robes, their figures undistinguishable, but I counted an even dozen, with an extra pair at the centre standing over some kind of stone table thing. Everything looked and sounded like I was trying to see through a pool of water, but I did recognize the Dark – I mean, Voldemort, as the figure on the table thing. He looked just like I remembered from back in June, but he was tied up and struggling. The other figures said all sorts of things I couldn’t understand, but in the end, I think the bastard was dead.”

Harry paused, and then continued. “I don’t mean he just stopped moving, I mean his body fell apart. It was kind of gross, you know.” With those words, Harry pushed the blurred images towards the tendrils of Dumbledore’s consciousness that he sensed probing at his mental barriers.

“I thought it was just wishful thinking, you know, but maybe…?” Harry let his voice trail off hopefully.

“You may be right, my dear boy,” Dumbledore said genially. “Still it is comforting to dream of such things. I trust that you are doing well back at Hogwarts for the new term, despite this unfortunate mess with Madam Umbridge?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, good. I am pleased to report that it appears that she was stopped before she managed to harm any students.”

Harry waited a moment, to see if Dumbledore was going to mention the Blood Quill. He knew from Sirius that the Headmaster had been informed about the pages discovered in Umbridge’s office, though the old manipulator wasn’t told of her attempts to use them against him. It appeared that once again Dumbledore was keeping secrets.

Harry shrugged mentally, _it wasn’t like that was a surprise._ Dumbledore dismissed Harry, giving him a final warning that Remus wouldn’t be allowed to show favouritism as Harry’s professor.

“I know, sir, he already reminded us to call him Professor Lupin in public.”

“That was well done, thank you for reassuring this old man,” Dumbledore commented as Harry prepared to leave the Headmaster’s office. “I am sure that there will be news about Tom Riddle soon enough.”

“Goodnight, Sir,” was Harry’s final response as he shut the door behind him. He dismissed the meddling old fool from his thoughts as he made his way up back to Gryffindor Tower. _It certainly is a good night._


	36. Letter Interlude: Prophecy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the infamous prophecy is first revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While a certain Dark Wizard has already been dealt with in the main story, we are still playing catch-up in the letters in some respects. As always, letter images are followed by the text version.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

September 21st, 1981

My Dearest Mother,

May the blessings of Mabon be upon you.

It’s been so hard of late keeping up the charade of trusting Dumbledore.

When Dumbledore first revealed the existence of a prophecy to Lily and James, they scoffed. You know how vague prophecies are and that they are usually self-fulfilling. However, as recent manoeuvrings by Dumbledore have demonstrated, you can use a prophecy to manipulate those who do believe. It seems that the old goat has SOMEHOW convinced Voldemort that the prophecy means that Harry (or young Neville Longbottom) is a real threat to him.

I need you to promise me that if anything happens to all of us you’ll keep an eye on Harry. He’s such an amazing little boy; takes after Jamie in appearance but he’s more like Lily in personality. I’m sure that he’ll be a worthy heir for our legacy. Even Severus agrees, when he can sneak away to visit despite his two ‘Masters’.

Current circumstances also finally drove Severus and Lily to ‘reconcile’, at least as far as James is concerned. She pushed him (and the rest of the Marauders) to apologize for how we treated him at Hogwarts. It was particularly hilarious watching Sev and Remus, given that they are secretly together and have been since sixth year.

Of course, Lily knows the truth as well, so she was having the same difficulty keeping a straight face as I was. I think that she’s trying to build up to the point where we can admit the truth to James (or at least convince him that Dumbledore’s not the hero that he portrays).

I think disillusioning James may actually be easier than Lily believes. He’s keeping more secrets from the old goat; he didn’t even tell the man that I’ve been living with the Potters. Dumbledore suggested me as Secret Keeper for their Fidelius. Of course, that would be too obvious. Besides, it is impossible for the Secret Keeper to be a resident of the place being protected.

Dumbledore also offered to be the bonder in placing the Charm. Jamie told him that we had it covered. He did imply that he agreed with Dumbledore’s idea, but wanted to keep the number of witnesses as small as possible.

Instead, we played the old trick that Grandfather Arcturus used on the Black properties. You pick someone magically weak to be the Secret Keeper, have them write down multiple copies of the secret, then Obliviate them. Peter seemed like the perfect choice, and performed his duties like a champion. As far as his conscious mind knows, he has no idea where we are hiding. I’ll bring a copy of the Secret for key members of the family to read later.

It’s really starting to get scary out there, both how aggressive the Death Eaters have become and how polarized the Wizarding community in Britain has developed in response. Even if both the Lords were to be vanquished tomorrow, it would still take many years and a great deal of work to clean up the mess.

Sirius Orion Black,

Heir of House Black

_Toujours Pur_


	37. A Web of Corruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The depths of Umbridge's evil are exposed and a raid occurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit more action-packed than the rest of the story. There is also some vaguely disturbing discussion that occurs, nothing explicit, just hinted implications.

The arrest and interrogation of Dolores Umbridge sent shockwaves throughout Britain’s Magical community. Despite what Dorea and the rest had found, the business in Knockturn Alley’s Red-Lumos District was just the tip of the iceberg.

You see, after graduating from Hogwarts, Dolores Umbridge’s first job at the Ministry was in the **Improper Use of Magic Office**. Working there, she had gotten access to the detection orb, an instantaneous map of all sites country-wide where active Magic could be detected. Of course, said orb was useless in Magically saturated areas like Hogwarts, the Alleys, etc.

However, when it came to those who chose to live outside of Magical areas, either by choice or by ignorance, it was an excellent tracker. Umbridge used the orb to be the first responder for Accidental Magic incidents pre-Hogwarts – usually from Muggleborns. She also used the orb while dealing with investigations into Statute of Secrecy violations. Such so-called violations were usually adult Muggleborns or half-bloods doing Magic in their own homes, but that didn’t matter to the vicious witch.

With a set of Blood Quills that she had ‘acquired’ from one of her mother’s clients, Umbridge began her reign of terror. She created fake Ministry documents and then used the quills and those documents to place her unwitting victims under her control.

Of course, she was careful to target only those who wouldn’t know any better. As such, her favourite targets were Muggleborns and half-bloods that had never been properly educated with respect to workings of the Magical Government as well as Blood Magic.

Ironically, the old Defence curse at Hogwarts worked to Umbridge’s advantage. With the poor quality of education in Defence Against the Dark Arts since Riddle’s curse, the percentage of the Wizarding Community who were unaware of the dangers of Blood Magic was quite significant. The chaos of the Voldemort war had worked in her favour as well. The Ministry had been too busy dealing with larger threats of Death Eater attacks to notice the few times her schemes failed and someone tried to complain.

Umbridge only left the **Improper Use of Magic Office** when the opportunity arose to take on the position of Fudge’s Senior Undersecretary. For someone like Umbridge, whose ambition was to be the ultimate ‘power behind the throne’, the advantages of her new position outweighed the loss of access to the orb. She did ensure that one of her patsies, a young Witch by the name of Matilda Hopkirk, stepped into her former job. This was meant to ensure that no one else would realize her scheme – or try to duplicate its success.

Still, without regular access to the detection orb, Umbridge no longer had the time or resources to recruit underage Witches and Wizards into her web. It was for this reason that she had convinced Fudge to get her into Hogwarts.

Harry had simply been the first in her target list. Gaining control over the-boy-who-lived would have been quite the coup. In fact, the whole incident with the Dementors had actually been her first attempt to claim control. She had hoped to use Harry’s supposed misdeeds to lure him into a Blood Quill controlled contract. Instead, Minister Fudge and Lucius Malfoy’s attempt to wrest control of Harry from Dumbledore had spiralled things out of her hands.

The Blood Quill detentions at Hogwarts were just the logical next step. It had only been thanks to Harry’s forethought in protecting his fellow students – and the adherence of all Houses to the strategy – that had temporarily derailed her plans. During the interrogation, it was revealed that Umbridge was planning to use her new role as ‘High Inquisitor’ to overcome the students’ avoidance strategy and force the issue.

When that particular little tidbit popped up during the interview, rumours said that Madam Bones had to excuse herself from the room. If she hadn’t, the older Witch would have hexed the toad to an inch of her life. 

“That…” she fumed, “my niece Susan told me over Yule about the detention partnering that they’d been doing, but she didn’t go into details and I never thought…”

Rufus nodded from where he stood nearby, serving as her assistant for the interrogation. “I always assumed that the Dark Bastard was the worst villain we’d face, but this… this is so much worse.”

“Her strategy, it really was insidious,” Sirius agreed. As the source of the original complaint, he’d managed to finagle permission through Rufus to sit in on the interview. The cost of his presence was reinstatement into the Hit Wizard corps, though Sirius had managed to limit his obligation to simply joining the Reserves. It was Sirius' new responsibilities as Lord Black that gave him an excuse not to re-join the corps as a full-time employee.

Taking up the Hit Wizard position, even if only part-time, had renewed his oaths of service. It was these oaths that ensured members of the Department wouldn’t spill confidential information revealed during the course of an investigation to the Press or others.

“I’m just glad that we’ve managed to stop her before she became truly unstoppable,” Rufus replied. “I never thought that I’d be saying this, but thank Merlin for the Azkaban breakout.”

As he spoke, Rufus glanced over, flashing Sirius a look from the corners of his eyes. Sirius knew that his old mentor would have his suspicions about the timing and location of the supposed attack by the Lestranges’. Hiding his amusement behind a cheerful grin, Sirius nodded as he agreed with the older Wizard’s words. It wasn’t like he could be implicated as one of the attackers, not with Scrimgeour himself as his alibi.

“Yes, thank Merlin indeed,” Madam Bones agreed absently. The distant tone in her voice indicated that she wasn’t really paying attention to the interplay between her Head Auror and his former protégé. Instead, she was obviously contemplating the expected fallout of the Umbridge revelations. The trio of law-enforcement members was currently staring through an enchanted one-way mirror. Umbridge, heavily potioned for the interrogation, was still seated where she had been left when Madame Bones had stormed out of the room. With her usual pastels exchanged for prisoner stripes and her hair unstyled and matted with grime, it was hard to imagine that such an unprepossessing woman could be the cause of so much misery.

As Umbridge’s interrogations continued and the sheer magnitude of her crimes became exposed, the Ministry decided to take an unprecedented strategy to ensure that justice was done. They placed an advertisement in the Daily Prophet.

The brainchild of a furious Dorea Black Potter, the ad was designed to prevent those who had been blackmailed by Umbridge from either freeing her out of fear or assassinating her out of desperation. In this ad, the reader was informed that any ‘contracts’ signed with a Blood Quill under the directions of Dolores Umbridge had been destroyed, the agreements rendered null. The ad also offered amnesty for any illegal acts performed under duress caused by such contracts. The only conditions were that the amnesty seeker must submit to an interview with the DMLE and provide a signed witness statement to be used in the trial of Dolores Umbridge and any of her co-conspirators.

At Sirius’ suggestion – originally provided by a disturbed Regulus – the advertisement also outlined exactly what a Blood Quill actually was and what it did. This was intended to prevent some other unscrupulous Witch or Wizard from duplicating Umbridge’s strategy. An informed populace was the best protection against such an attempt.

The first response to the ad was a delegation of fuming Gringotts Goblins. Less than an hour after the Prophet was sent out, they barged into the Ministry Atrium, heavily armed, and demanded a meeting with the Minister. It turned out that Umbridge’s crimes with Blood Quills violated the current Goblin Treaty. Non-Familial use of Blood Quills was forbidden in Britain unless the contract was witnessed by a Goblin. They demanded that Umbridge, as a violator of this treaty, be turned over to face punishment under Goblin Justice.

The Goblins’ demand had all the Wizards in the room shuddering. Stories told of Goblin Justice made Azkaban look like a stay in the Leaky by comparison.

“The Umbridge woman’s crimes against her own kind are quite extensive, sirs,” Madam Bones finally offered. “We need to complete our investigation before we can even think about allowing you to take custody. I do have a suggestion, though. If the Minister would permit, the DMLE would be grateful if the Goblins would provide an additional guard rotation to ensure that the prisoner remains in custody. Once our investigation – and trial before the Wizengamut – is complete, if the Goblins are unsatisfied with the extent of her punishment from that body we can revisit the matter.”

“That… sounds agreeable,” said Minister Fudge, happy to delay the decision for as long as possible.

“We will accept, Wizard,” the lead Goblin said gruffly, and then barked a command in Gobbledygook. A pair of heavily muscled Goblins, armed with massive, double-headed axes, broke off from the rest of the group to stand beside Madam Bones. “Bonecrusher and Foehammer will take the first shift. You should expect a new pair of guards to arrive every twelve hours.”

Besides the issue of Umbridge’s unwilling pawns, there was the matter of her willing allies. Some of them could, and did, argue that they were unaware of her illegal actions. Others, including several of those former Death Eaters who had avoided Azkaban back in ’81, had been active participants in her schemes.

Madam Bones had several Hit Wizard squads out hunting for the worst of these – the Carrow twins, Avery Jr, and Corban Yaxley, to name a few – with limited success.

At this point, most of the DMLE believed that these same individuals were involved in the mysterious affair with Harry in June and the Azkaban escape back in October. Others, like the fathers of Draco’s cronies Crabbe and Goyle, were only mildly implicated by Umbridge’s testimony. However, given that they’d disappeared instead of showing up for questioning, they were included in the list of wanted fugitives.

Ironically, Lucius Malfoy, one of the most visible of the accused Death Eaters, was not one of those implicated. Instead, the slippery bastard had shown up at DMLE headquarters before the Witch’s interrogation had even begun, wanting to give a statement.

It turned out that Lucius’ father Abraxas had been one of Umbridge’s early victims. He had been a client of Umbridge’s mother and had cautioned his son against doing business with the woman.

Even though he despised the toad, Sirius couldn’t help snickering at the thought of the haughty Lord Abraxas Malfoy serving under the command of the daughter of his mistress.

_Maybe that was another reason for the Dragon Pox deaths?_ He thought. _Thank Merlin that my parents knew better than to look to the Red-Lumos District for their amours. Reg and my parentage would have made perfect blackmail material._

A few days after the ad was posted there came a break in the hunt for the various fugitives – both Azkaban escapees and Umbridge’s associates. It was less than a week after Lucius Malfoy had shown up to give a statement when his wife Narcissa walked up to the main desk at the DMLE.

“Excuse me,” she said, looking like the picture of poise and elegance. Her appearance was a sharp contrast to the rumpled clothes and exhausted features of the retired Aurors currently staffing the desk. “I believe that I am in possession of some intelligence that the department has been seeking.”

As the Auror gazed at her, his brain clearly struggling to process her words, Sirius stepped up from where he was supposedly checking in with Maryann. In reality, he already knew exactly why she was there.

“Don’t worry about it Stevenson, I’ll take Lady Malfoy back to the Head Auror’s office,” he said casually, even as the pair of Blacks exchanged a speaking look.

“Ready?” she murmured.

“More than,” he replied.

Narcissa strode through the Nogpen and swept into Head Auror Scrimgeour’s office like a queen, with a bemused Sirius trailing behind. The sight made a large percentage of the ‘pen do a double-take. One member of the Nogpen had a very different response.

Glancing over, Sirius caught sight of Nymie’s twitching and couldn’t resist a wink. “Damn it, Siri,” he heard her mutter with a huff of laughter before her voice was cut off by the door closing behind him.

“Head Auror,” he heard Narcissa say even as he activated the anti-eavesdropping charm, “I trust that you have a moment for me?”

“Of course, Lady Malfoy,” Rufus said. He knew how the game was played. Thus, he gestured towards one of the chairs placed opposite his own seat, with nothing beyond a brief glimpse towards Sirius giving away his confusion.

With a shift of her full robes, Narcissa accepted the older man’s offer. She took a seat, her legs crossed at the ankles and angled off to the side, making full use of the elegant manners that her mother had trained her in as a child.

“Now then,” he continued speaking once she was settled. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s rather what I can do for your department,” she spoke delicately, as if unsure how to frame her speech. “You see, my husband has some unfortunate… visitors, at present. Sadly, their past acquaintance with my husband and father-in-law has made it impossible for us to remove them from the Manor on our own. However, the recent clean-up here at the Ministry suggested to us an alternate solution.”

She reached into the elegant beaded purse that she carried. Pulling out an amulet, carved with a peacock, she placed it on the desk in front of her.

“This amulet will grant the holder temporary control over the Wards at our Wiltshire estate. It lasts for one full day – twenty-four hours – starting this evening at six. At that time, my husband and I will be seen publically attending dinner with our close friends, the Notts, and the Parkinsons, after which we will be heading to the continent for a short holiday.”

Rufus' face took on the sharp smile that boded poorly for his target. “I believe I understand, Lady Malfoy. Please assure your husband that as long as things go well this evening and we receive no further intelligence implicating him in the Umbridge woman’s affairs, there will be no need for the department to further inconvenience such a generous supporter of the Ministry.”

The pair of political schemers exchanged a polite nod, each recognizing in each other a worthy opponent. Then Narcissa stood up.

“If there is nothing else you wish to speak to me about, then I will take my leave. Good day, Mister Scrimgeour. Sirius, make sure that you behave yourself, you are Lord Black now.”

With that, she turned and left the office. Watching through the open door, Rufus and Sirius couldn’t help but notice the admiring glances and respectful nods that the Witch received as she passed.

With a gesture, Rufus shut the door, as Sirius claimed the seat that his cousin had vacated.

“Quite a woman, your cousin,” he said appreciatively.

“Yup,” Sirius said with a grin. “Loyal to her husband, though.”

“Of course, of course,” Rufus replied absently, his mind already focused on the opportunity that Narcissa had provided. “Now, then, what shall we do with you?” He said, staring avidly at the pendant in his hand.

Late that evening, Sirius found himself standing beside Rufus at the head of an attack force. The DMLE was about to invade the Malfoys’ Wiltshire Manor.

“Black,” the Head Auror barked, drawing Sirius’ attention. “I’m trusting you to have my back here, so you can’t be going off half-arsed.”

Sirius cocked his head to the left, a mannerism that he’d picked up from his canine form. His position clearly indicated a question.

Rufus elaborated, saying, “not even if you spot your mad cousin. I remember how much you used to growl when she came up, and I’m sure what’s happened since makes it worse.”

Recognizing that his former, or rather current, boss was sincere, Sirius nodded.

“Good. Now, we’ve got the front entrance,” Rufus gestured towards the Manor’s gate, barely visible in the darkness, “since I’m the one that holds the pendant. Duo Squad has West. Tres Squad has East. Quattuor Squad is on North.” He turned to the rest of Unus Squad, the cadre of Hit Wizards standing in ranks directly behind them. “We’ll be the first in. As a reminder, we’re using the Wards coming down as a signal to the other squads. The Aurors,” here Rufus waved his hand toward the crimson robed figures gathered off to one side, “will place themselves in a wide ring to handle containment. They have been instructed to prioritizing tagging over bagging, as many of our targets are known to be powerful fighters. General Auror training isn’t intended for full-on battle, not as it is for the Hit Wizards. They will also be maintaining the anti-Apparition and anti-portkey perimeter.”

“May Merlin and Morgana bless our efforts,” Scrimgeour finished. The Wizards and Witches scattered, moving into their assigned positions cautiously to avoid detection from anyone in residence inside the darkened manor.

After about fifteen minutes, plenty of time for everyone to get in position, Rufus dropped the Wards. They crackled and flared white as they came down.

Rufus moved in, swiftly. Sirius followed at his back, their eyes covering different sections of their approach. He caught a glimpse of at least one person peering through the upstairs windows as they reached the massive front doors of the Manor. 

Said doors swung open silently with a wave of Rufus’ hand. The second that the crack appeared between the two doors, a red light came shooting out.

_Stunner_ , Sirius thought, _just in case it’s an unexpected ally, I suppose._

One of the squad returned fire, and battle was engaged. The invaders split apart, one group to each side of the doorframe, as they shot a series of _stunners_ and other disabling hexes inside. A cry echoing out from the dark foyer indicated that at least one shot managed to hit.

They waited for a moment. When no new attacks came from inside Specialist Armstrong moved forward. He found a single body lying near the base of the staircase.

“Selwyn,” he announced, as the rest of the squad moved in. One of them, Specialist Merryweather, sent off a series of low powered _lumos_ spheres. The charms were specially designed to light up dark spaces and check for watchers without compromising the invaders’ night vision.

The squad medic, Healer Barnes, looked over the downed body. “Combination of a _stunner_ and _confundus_ ,” she said briskly. “Even if he’s revived, he’s not going to be of much use to the others. Still,” she said confidently, “best send him off.”

Pulling out a pair of cuffs from her belt pouch, she secured the prisoner’s hands and feet. Then she tapped the cuffs and gave the order, “secure”. Selwyn’s comatose body vanished with the signature swirl of an activated portkey.

“One advantage of the Head Auror holding the Wards,” she commented with a wink at Sirius, who had been watching her work. He nodded with a small grin.

“Upstairs,” Rufus ordered, interrupting their moment. Obeying, the squad moved out and up, the rear guard keeping watch on their tails. They were assigned to make sure none of their targets got the drop on them. Advancing in pairs, the squad reached the top of the staircase. There they were greeted by a long hallway filled with portraits.

There were a number of whispers, as several of the portraits recognized the Hit Wizards’ dragon-hide robes.

“Sshh,” Rufus hissed at the portraits. “One of you, are there any Wizards or Witches up here?”

“And who are you, that you dare…” one of the more pompous looking Malfoy Portraits spoke up. Rufus flashed the amulet before he could finish. “The Master of the Manor commands.”

“Very well,” the Witch in the portrait closest to Scrimgeour’s position spoke. “Most of them went downstairs after the Wards fell, but there were a couple who didn’t make it down the stairs before your team came through the doors. They retreated into one of the guest bedrooms, which we cannot access. I don’t know if they’re still there, or if they have moved on.”

“Be careful,” the portrait beside Sirius whispered. He glanced over, and then took a second look. It was a Black; one of the ladies who’d married into the Malfoy line centuries ago! “I’ve seen the look on those two’s faces before, they’re determined to fight it out.”

“Thank you for the warning,” Sirius said, giving her an abbreviated nod of respect.

The squad moved forward, shifting their positions as they went. They took up places on either side of the door to the indicated guest bedroom, and then one member sent an unlocking charm at the doorknob. This time, the door wouldn’t budge.

“ _Confringo,”_ the next spell the squad member shot was a directed hex, which shattered both the doorknob and the wood around it. The new gap in the wood allowed the bedroom door to swing open on its own.

Immediately a set of curses shot through the now open doorway. Sirius spotted the purple flame of Dolohov’s old stand-by hex and the grey sheen of the entrail-expelling curse. Then, a gout of blue slammed into the wall opposite the door, damaging the portrait that hung there. As several portraits began to scream, Scrimgeour waved Sirius and Specialist Merryweather forward. They dived inside, taking shelter from the curses flying overhead using the massive four-poster bed as an impromptu barricade.

“You okay?” Sirius asked his squadmate.

She winced, “Caught the edge of that last _repulso_ ,” she admitted, gesturing at her non-dominant arm, “but I can manage.”

“Right.”

Even with spellfire coming from multiple points, one of the squad managed to get in a hit, catching their opponent with a cutting curse. The scream of outrage that emerged from behind cover was female, though pitched lower than what Sirius remembered of Bella.

“Carrows?” Sirius mouthed as he turned to look back at Scrimgeour, who nodded grimly.

“You hurt my brother!” The voice screamed as Alecto Carrow came flying towards the open door, firing off _repulsos_ right and left.

It was chaos for a moment, as her abrupt charge caused a problem with crossfire. She ended up hit with multiple _stunners_ as well as an overpowered _expelliarmus_ , the combination of which slammed her against the wall with a harsh crack.

The squad swarmed forward. Merryweather, being the closest, checked on the downed Witch. Meanwhile, Sirius and Armstrong headed around the bed towards the corner of the room where the other Wizard was holed up.

“Avada-“ the voice of Amycus Carrow was hoarse as he spoke through clear signs of pain. Before he could finish the incantation, Sirius hit him with a _silencio_.

With the Carrows down for the count, Unus squad took a moment to regroup. Barnes took the opportunity to patch up both Merryweather and Scrimgeour, who had also been clipped by a _repulso_.

Sirius took a moment to be thankful that none of his squad was badly injured, even as the Carrow twins were cuffed and sent back to Headquarters in a swirl of activated portkeys.

Unus squad continued their hunt through the remainder of the upstairs rooms. They occasionally stopped to mark objects of interest, pausing when they heard the screams and yells of fighting on the lower levels. However, they did not encounter any further hostiles, much to Sirius’ poorly disguised frustration.

“Easy, Black,” Rufus commented at one point. “I know that you’re anxious to fight, but you’re not a lone wolf anymore.”

Sirius rolled his eyes but nodded. He knew what Rufus meant. All aspects of this raid had to be above reproach, given the complex situation. “Yes, sir.”

In the end, the massive raid resulted in the apprehension of fifteen criminals, including the three that Unus had captured and the Lestrange trio. For better or worse, two of those captured died from complications due to injuries received in the raid. That included the younger Lestrange brother, Rabastan. Those who had escaped Azkaban were interrogated to ensure that all their collaborators were correctly identified before being sent directly back to prison. The others were placed in custody beside Umbridge and her collaborators to await trial. 

A large collection of illegal objects was also recovered during the raid, including a number of Black Magic enchantments. These were either destroyed or turned over to the Department of Mysteries for investigation. Lucretia informed the Family later that a number of them were items stolen from the Department during the war.

As far as the Family could tell, it seemed that the raid spelled the end of any significant threat from the former Death Eaters and their allies. There were a handful of loose ends still hanging, including Dolohov and Rookwood. Those two men had apparently left Britain before the Dark Bastard’s final death, but without a leader, they were of little concern.

_So,_ Sirius mused, _the threat of the Dark Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters ends not with a bang, but with a whimper._


	38. Letter Interlude: Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prison letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The images here are a bit harder to read than usual because of the aesthetics of a prisoner's letter. Thus, you may find the usual plain-text versions particularly useful.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

October 31st, 1982

Mum,

It’s been one (LONG) year since Jamie and Lils died.

While I appreciate the newspaper subscription, it’s disturbing to read the level of adulation Dumbledore and little Harry are receiving. Seriously, BOY-WHO-LIVED‼‼

I’m sure the family is already plotting how to restore the balance broken by the War and I know that my being here is a key element to the plan.

Despite that, it’s still hard, being trapped, even if I don’t have to feel the Dementors. Thank you again for tracking that amulet down before I was sent here. Of all the _items_ that you’ve smuggled in to make my imprisonment more tolerable, that has been the greatest blessing.

I hope that you are practicing the old rites with young Harry. He deserves the right to know his deceased family, like all practicing members of House Black. I wish I could be there with you as you greet our loved ones.

Give everyone, but especially **Harry,** my love,

Sirius


	39. Tumbling Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Trial of Dolores Umbridge (and her Cabal).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: during the trials, there are references to past instances of child abuse and rape, but no details or current events shown.

The upcoming _**Trial of Dolores Jane Umbridge**_ was already being forecast as the spectacle of the year.

In the lead up to the big event, Rita Skeeter and others of her ilk dug up everything that they could find about the past of the toad and her collaborators. Each morning’s Daily Prophet brought new surprises, as the Wizengamut tried those who had participated in her schemes. Those who had done so under duress, or whose crimes had been relatively minor, were punished with fines or – per a proposal that originated from Cygnus and Dorea – a Magical form of community service.

In submitting her proposal, Dorea was clever enough to have Sirius come to testify to the sheer inhuman misery that was the result of time spent in Azkaban Prison. As time served in that monstrous place was the normal punishment for all crimes too serious for a mere fine, her proposal was enthusiastically adopted by many. After all, most of the Wizengamut had family or friends who would benefit from the new program.

This new community service program was also intended as a way to mollify the still-fuming Goblin Nation. Management of the service program would be handled by a new branch of the **Department of Magical Law-Enforcement** , the **Office of Community Affairs (OCA)**. However, the true enforcement of community service hours would be done using Blood Quill contracts, overseen by Goblin representatives. Each convict was assigned a set number of hours of service, and a window of time in which that service must be completed. Failure to meet the assigned hours would result in a clearly specified penalty, namely a period held in Azkaban Prison that exactly corresponded to the amount of missed hours. 

Of course, if a convicted individual attempted to duck out of the contract and avoid being taken into custody, then the Blood Magic would kick in, causing a permanent loss of Magical strength. There was no doubt that there would be some who would push the boundaries, seeking to test the true power of the Blood Magic. Harry knew that those individuals would likely become object lessons for the entire community.

The other side of the community service program was the designation of suitable tasks for the convicts to complete. It was here that the OCA staff would put in most of their time. Proposals for community service tasks could be submitted by any upstanding member of the Wizarding Community. These tasks could be simple things like maintenance of public spaces such as the Alleys, Hogsmeade, etc. They could also be tasks that required a specific skill set: for example, the brewing of emergency supplies for St. Mungos, the harvesting of ingredients to be used in said potions, reinforcing the Wards on the protected reserves for Magical Creatures, etc.

Initially, those proposals submitted by the victims of the Umbridge Cabal would be given priority – a kind of reparation. What Dorea and Cygnus were careful not to mention on the floor of the Wizengamut was the inspiration for the new program. If the purebloods knew that it had been copied from the Muggles, it might have kept them from adopting the system.

Naturally, though, those of the Wizarding Community who still had ties to the Mundane world were easily able to see the inspiration. In fact, it was this very fact that made the program more appealing to the lower classes of the British Wizarding World, as could be seen by the conversations that had gone through the Gryffindor Common Room when the topic was first introduced on the Wizarding Wireless Network and in the Daily Prophet.

“Me da’s cousin ended up with a community sentence after a riot at a footie match,” Seamus Finnegan, Harry’s half-blood dormmate had bragged, grinning. “He ended up with a couple a weeks a work, but he said it were worth it.”

Their Muggleborn comrade, Dean Thomas, also nodded. “My step-father works as a solicitor. He takes public defender cases sometimes, pro-bono. He’s told me about some of the sentences his clients have received.”

The hardest trials for Harry and his friends to read about were the ones that directly affected students still at Hogwarts.

After it was revealed that Vince Crabbe and Greg Goyle’s fathers were to serve a five-year stint in Azkaban for their involvement in the Cabal, some of the students decided to blame the boys for their fathers’ actions. Draco and the rest of their Slytherin allies immediately closed ranks around the beleaguered boys, banding together to prevent bullying, especially by some of the Gryffindor upper-years. It took Harry pulling Cormac McLaggen and the others aside and pointing out that targeting the boys would likely result in Detention from Snape, or worse, McGonagall, as well as potentially costing them the House Cup before they stopped. 

Then there were the Carrow twins. Flora and Hestia Carrow were the young daughters of Amycus Carrow, who had been captured with his sister, their aunt, during the Malfoy raid. During the siblings’ trial, it was revealed that they had not only committed a multitude of crimes during and after the war but that they were also guilty of truly horrific levels of child abuse. It was common practice for the twins to receive punishment in the form of dark hexes and curses. The older Carrows had claimed that it was an effort to ‘toughen them up’, but no one else bought that argument.

Harry knew that his Uncle Severus had suspected that the twins were suffering from abuse from the beginning of their first year. However, Dumbledore had refused to allow him to do anything about it. The old man’s argument was that doing so would compromise his place as a spy in Voldemort’s Court. But now, now the girls finally got the justice that they deserved.

With the Family’s careful arrangement, the Malfoys had managed to emerge from the mess with the Cabal relatively untarnished. This was despite the fact that the Malfoy Estate had been used by the villains as their headquarters for a brief period. Harry’s Aunt Narcissa used the leverage that she held over her husband thanks to his foolishness during the short-lasting resurrection of Tom Riddle to force him to accede to her wishes. Specifically, she had him arrange matters with the Wizengamut such that the couple would take the Carrow twins as their wards.

Harry knew that Aunt Narcissa was no-doubt thrilled to have daughters to spoil at last. It had been written into her marriage contract that the couple would have at least one child of each gender. However, a stray hex to the family jewels during the war had prevented them from having any blood children beyond their only son and heir. 

When the break between winter and spring terms had arrived and everyone headed home for the holidays, Harry had hidden a smile at Draco shepherding his new sisters onto the train. Despite his public dislike of his parents’ actions, in private Draco had admitted to his cousin that he was thrilled to have younger siblings. He was old enough to be tired of his mother’s tendency towards overprotectiveness.

“Besides,” he had said nonchalantly, “it’s not like the girls are any threat to my position as Heir Malfoy.”

With all of the trials, the amount of time that Hogwarts’ Headmaster was absent from the school also grew and grew. Every time the Witch or Wizard on trial was suspected or confirmed as a Death Eater, he wormed his way into the Chamber. Then, the old man would try to get them to state during their testimony that Voldemort had returned.

“He’s trying sooo hard,” Sirius said snickering one night during a mirror call. “It’s really too bad that all the evidence gathered by the Ministry is inconclusive. There’s simply no reason to believe that our tale of an attempt to revive Voldemort back in June isn’t the complete picture.”

“Yeah,” Harry had agreed. “If he keeps going like this, the Family won’t have to do a thing. The old goat will cause his own downfall.”

“Exactly, pup.”

After all the fuss and preparation, Umbridge’s trial began – and ended – with a bang.

A young Muggleborn Wizard, whose sister had been compelled to serve as a reward for Umbridge’s allies before her suicide, smuggled a Magically enhanced Muggle explosive inside the chamber. Using his time in the witness chair to deposit the bomb underneath its seat, he then activated the bomb just as the toad sat down to begin her testimony.

Ironically, the Wards on the chair, meant to protect the occupant from attacks, acted instead to limit the blast to Umbridge alone. For Harry, seated in the witness box awaiting his turn to testify, it was like the pillar of fire that he’d heard about while attending church with the Dursleys (who paid lip service to the Church of England, attending only on the Holidays). The Wards directed the entire force of the blast upwards, immolating Umbridge while doing no other damage beyond leaving a scorch mark on the ceiling of the Chamber.

“Well,” Remus breathed from his seat at Harry’s side. He had volunteered to escort Harry to the trial as the boy had required special permission to miss classes at Hogwarts. “I guess that’s that.”

“Yeah,” Harry said ruefully, as Aurors rushed over to take Umbridge’s murderer into custody. “I guess so.”

With both Umbridge and the Escapees from Azkaban in the past, the students at Hogwarts were able to focus their attention on more important matters. For Harry and his friends, that could be summarized in one word: OWLs.

To no one’s surprise, Hermione was the most frantic of the Gryffindor 5th years, her drive to study only matched by the Ravenclaw 7th years. Determined to see her friends pass, she scheduled study sessions for all hours not already booked with classes, meals, or sleep. It took an intervention from Remus to calm her down.

“Miss Granger,” he said one day after Defence class, “would you remain behind after class? I would like to have a word.”

Harry, Ron, and Neville waited around outside the classroom until she emerged, her face pale.

“What happened?” Harry asked, concerned.

She flushed. “Do you remember what happened in our third year’s finals, when I faced the Boggart?”

It took a moment for the boys to dig up the memory, but then Ron snorted. “McGonagall?”

Hermione nodded. “It’s still my biggest fear, you know, academic failure that is. Professor Lupin pointed out to me that many who fail the OWLs do so because they burn out in the lead-up to the exams and then are unable to perform when the time comes. He said that a friend had to give him the same reality check when he was a student. Did you know that he is terrible at potions?”

At that, Harry snickered. “Yeah, Siri told me. He said that part of the problem was bad reactions due to Remus’ – excuse me, Professor Lupin’s – condition, but that he’d made things worse by stressing over matters.” Harry then nudged Neville, “rather like this one now.”

“Hey,” Neville shot back, “I’ve been doing better.”

“True. It helps that Professor Snape has mellowed in recent months.”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed with a snicker. “He’s still a greasy git, but he’s not quite as much of a bastard these days.”

“Speaking of…” Hermione said as the quartet headed towards the Great Hall for lunch, “have you noticed?”

“Noticed what?”

“Professor Snape and Professor Lupin?”

From behind Hermione and Ron, Neville and Harry exchanged a smirk.

With the Dark Bastard finally destroyed, the couple had decided that they could finally go public with their relationship. However, they agreed that, in keeping with the Family’s new image, instead of the full reveal they would make it appear as a new courtship. Starting with Remus’ arrival at Hogwarts to re-assume the post of DADA Professor, they had publically buried the hatchet. Over the past several months, they had then begun spending increasing amounts of quasi-private time together, including taking tea in the teachers’ lounge and claiming adjoining seats at the Head Table.

Meanwhile, when Dumbledore called the increasingly sparse Order meetings the pair deliberately arrived and departed together. Severus even deigned to sit with his former enemy, Sirius, when Remus guided him over to the dog animagus’ side. At least that was what a smug Sirius had told Harry during one of their frequent mirror calls.

“They have been getting pretty close,” Harry mused aloud. “You don’t think?”

“What?” Hermione asked as Ron and Neville chimed in less excitedly.

“Maybe they’re… you know… attracted to each other?”

Hermione’s expression grew pensive, even as Ron’s just looked confused.

“That would explain things,” she said, to herself more than to the boys, “like why Professor Snape was so hostile towards Professor Lupin in our third year. He was trying to hide his interest.”

Then she brightened. “This requires further investigation.” Grabbing Ron’s arm, she dragged the redhead off towards the Great Hall, even as he plaintively called, “…attracted?”

Harry and Neville smothered snickers, even as they watched the other two charge ahead.

“What’s so funny?” The voice came from behind them. A hand was placed on both of their shoulders.

Looking back, Harry was unsurprised to see Remus standing there. “Hermione just got an idea about you and Sev,” he explained to the older Wizard. “She’s planning to investigate.”

“Oh dear,” Remus said with a smile. “I’ll have to warn him.”

To everyone’s surprise, the weeks of OWL exams proved uneventful. Harry and his friends, having worked hard in their studying during the last term, emerged from the exams feeling relatively confident. While Harry worried a bit about Charms – his weakest of the core subjects, History of Magic – so… much… memorization, and Ancient Runes – which he’d learned via independent study instead of in the classroom, he was fairly certain that he’d managed at least an Acceptable in everything. The only exception was Divination, which Harry honestly could care less about now that the prophecy was no longer hanging over his head.

Meanwhile, Ron – who’d worried most about Transfiguration, and Neville – who had been concerned about Potions, mainly the possibility of his Green magic acting up during the practical, were similarly relaxed.

Of course, Hermione wanted to spend the entire train ride home discussing the exam questions. All three boys had vetoed the idea, glaring at her whenever she tried to bring them up.

“It’s break time, Hermione; time to give your brain a rest and think about anything other than school.”

“Fine,” she huffed, leaning back against one of the compartment’s benches. “But you’d better not be planning to slack off all summer.”

“We wouldn’t do that,” Harry replied with a teasing grin, “would we boys?”

“Nope.”

“Nuh-huh.”

“So, I know that Harry’s headed off to Grimmauld,” – _Sirius had finally convinced Dumbledore not to protest his taking Guardianship over his Godson by promising to make arrangements with Petunia to maintain the Blood Wards –_ “and your family’s back at the Burrow, right Ron?”

Ron agreed with a casual shrug.

“How about you, Neville? Are you doing anything exciting?”

“Well,” Neville paused for a moment. “Gran has heard about a specialist somewhere among the Eastern Mages who are said to have developed a treatment for long-term Cruciatus damage. I think she’s planning a trip for us to go and investigate.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “I’m not getting my hopes up, but even getting to travel out there will be interesting. I’m planning to talk Gran into letting me visit some of the local Herbologists. Did you know that there’s a whole separate branch of study that focuses on Asian flora?”

“That sounds… exciting,” Hermione agreed hesitantly.

After revealing his supposed dream vision to Dumbledore, Harry had done the same for Ron and Hermione. He wanted to make sure that they stopped worrying about Voldemort without blowing the Family’s cover with the old chess-master. They’d happily accepted his story, taking it to mean that even if the Dark Wizard weren’t completely defeated he was at least not an immediate problem.

Though, of course, Hermione had smacked Harry for “not telling her right away.”

As they pulled into Kings Cross station and headed out among the crowds, Harry was delighted to see not one, but two familiar, dark-haired faces.

“Siri!” Harry cried, giving his godfather a joyous greeting before eyeing a smirking Regulus, who stood comfortably at his side.

“Who’s this?” He asked, confused. Harry didn’t think that the Family was planning to reveal Regulus’ survival to the public, so what was he doing here?

“Harry, I’d like you to meet my much younger cousin and Heir, Rigel Black.”

_Ah._


	40. Letter Interlude: Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walburga Black finally gets a chance to say her piece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this final letter, I decided to switch things up, show the other side of the correspondence. It felt like a fitting way to wrap things up. As always, the letter images are followed by the plain text version.

* * *

Letter Text (if you cannot read the images).

Letter found with the will of Walburga Black after her death in 1990.

My Dearest boys,

If you are reading this, then I died before we managed to complete the great overthrow of the VILLAINOUS LORDS. It is my greatest hope that one day you will succeed and be able to truly live in the Wizarding World as it should be.

To all of you, I give my love and hope for your happiness. In addition, I have some specific requests for each of you.

SIRIUS: I assume that you’ve managed to gain your freedom. My eldest boy, you’ve been so busy fighting for everyone else, you’ve never really taken the time to just do something for yourself. I charge you to find a tropical beach somewhere and roast in the warmth (Black Island is a good choice if you don’t mind the quiet). You need to bake the chill of Azkaban from your bones. Oh, and find love for yourself, I expect many Grandchildren.

REGULUS: I hope that one day you will wake to the world once more. When you do, don’t be like your Father and lock yourself away in fear of exposure. You need to see the world for real rather than just pretending for the sake of the mission. No matter the time you lost, you are capable of doing great things.

SEVERUS: My most subtle of sons, you know what you truly want. Go out and make it happen, even if the Wolf resists.

REMUS: You have been my unexpected joy. When Sirius first told me of your secret, I never dreamed that one day you would become one of my own, but I’m so happy that you have. Remember, your Wolf does not define you; it is merely a small part of the brilliant man that you’ve become. Don’t let self-doubt keep you from the life you deserve. Oh, and don’t let Severus keep blaming himself for James and Lily’s death.

HARRY: My surprise child. I don’t know if I should call you son or grandson, for you’ve truly been both. It’s your job to keep the ‘grown-ups’ from forgetting that sometimes a prank is what the world needs. Don’t let Dumbledore and the cursed title he’s laid on you define your future. You are more than just the Boy-Who-Lived.

I love you all and expect to see you through the fire for many years before you finally join me on the other side.

Mum, Mother, Grandmum, Aunt Wally, Matriarch Black

(Whatever you want to call me, just don’t call me unhappy)


	41. Bittersweet Symphony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Halloween Night once more, and that means that it's time for a Family celebration.

_October 31 st, 1996_

“…We call on our Lady Magic, beseeching her to grant permission for those who have passed on to return and visit those whom they have left behind.”

Sirius, Reg, and Harry spoke together, completing the ritual just as the sun set. There was a flash of green and a number of spirits faded into view. Like the Hogwarts ghosts, they were semi-transparent and lacked a material form. Despite that regrettable fact, their presence still brought joy to the viewers.

The spirits present included the most recent Lord Black, Arcturus, and his beloved wife Melania. Then there was their son and Heir, Orio, along with his wife, Walburga. Walburga’s younger brother, Alphard, Sirius’ favourite Uncle was also present, along with Arcturus’ squib brother Marius, the ‘ancestor’ of Regulus’ new identity Rigel, and his sister Cassiopeia, the former Matriarch Black, as well as a number of others.

The living members of the Family Black who gathered to greet them were equally large in number. First and foremost were all of Walburga’s sons: Sirius, Regulus, Remus, Severus, and Harry. Besides that quintet of Wizards, Cygnus Black was there with two daughters and their children, Draco and Nymphadora, as well as a gleeful Dorea, who had passed on visiting her husband and in-laws this year for the sake of seeing the family reunion. Lucretia was there with her husband and grand-daughter Mal. Even allies like the Weasley siblings (Ginny, the twins, and Bill) and the Longbottoms (Augusta and Neville) had joined the party.

And a party was exactly what it was. Tonight the Family was celebrating the victories of the past year, including the final annihilation of the Dark Lord, the fall of the Toad and her Cabal, and even the neutralization of the Light Lord.

For you see, it ended up being unnecessary for the Family to bring the Old Manipulator down. He did it all on his own.

With his behaviour during the trials in the spring, Dumbledore had ensured that he would never be allowed to reclaim his positions in the Wizengamut and ICW. Then, over the summer, the old man had left Hogwarts on a search for the Dark Lord and the mysterious coven that Harry’s vision had revealed, leaving the school in the hands of his trusted Deputy, McGonagall. So far, he had yet to return to British shores. Fawkes did deliver infrequent messages to the older Witch, so they knew that he was still in the land of the living.

Privately Sirius thought that Dumbledore was avoiding returning until he had something to use to rebuild his reputation.

 _Not that he’s likely to find anything,_ he thought with a shrug. Then he dismissed the old goat from his thoughts.

With Dumbledore absent and the shake-up caused by the fall of the Cabal, Professor McGonagall had finally been able to start making the changes that she’d been dreaming of for decades. To the shock of those unaware of Tom Riddle’s demise, Remus had managed to end the year without incident and had signed a long-term contract as the permanent DADA professor. He and Severus had gone public with their relationship, wedding in a private ceremony in September – though of course, the ceremony was actually a renewal of their pre-existing bonds. He had taken on the role of Gryffindor Head of House and was proving to be a much more hands-on Head than McGonagall, who had been far too busy given her other position as Deputy Headmistress.

Deputy Headmistress McGonagall had also brought in new teachers. There was a Transfiguration Mistress educated at Castelobruxo and a French Magical Historian recommended by Madame Maxime. Professor Binns was officially retired, though his spirit refused to stop teaching. Instead, he lectured to an empty classroom as the History of Magic course was moved into a different space.

Further, McGonagall approved the hiring of teaching assistants, mostly recent graduates who were looking for a way to improve their chances of finding an Apprenticeship. In the long term, she expressed a desire for the faculty to begin taking Apprentices of their own, as well as allowing some of the NEWT students to assist in teaching the younger students. For now, though, it was easiest to use new hires. Thankfully, the funds were actually available to pay for the extra staff. Several of the Hogwarts Board of Governors had been implicated in the Cabal and their routine theft of school funds was revealed during their trials. This financial windfall was what had made the Deputy Headmistress’ changes possible.

Hogwarts was finally on its way towards regaining the place that it had once held. One day it would again be a premiere school on the world stage when it came to secondary Magical education, not the laughing-stock that it was starting to become.

“They have no idea, do they?” Arcturus asked Sirius with a barely noticeable smile when he realized where his successor was looking.

“Nope,” Sirius agreed.

Arcturus had been speaking with his grandson about some of the tricks that he’d used as Lord Black to make things happen, especially at the Ministry. He had noticed the younger Wizard looking towards where Regulus and Harry were talking animatedly with Walburga and Orion. As they spoke, the two teens could infrequently be caught staring at each other with an odd combination of awe and affection.

“I’m going to hold this over the pair of them forever,” Sirius chortled, “especially Reg. After all, he’s the older one and shouldn’t be crushing over a Wizard four years younger than him.”

“Even if he knew that his feelings were returned, he knows better than to do anything about it until Harry’s of age,” Arcturus agreed. “Still it is entertaining to watch.”

“Definitely. Sev, Remus, and I have a bet going about who’s going to figure it out first, and when. Given Reg is off with his new – old – Master most of the time, and Harry’s at Hogwarts, it’ll take something big for them to get a clue.”

“How is that going, by the way?” Arcturus asked, curious. He had been the one to help Regulus gain a spot with a Master before the teen’s supposed death by reaching out to the younger sibling of one of his former classmates.

“Surprisingly well. Madame Greengrass was willing to accept Reg despite the longer than expected delay in his Apprenticeship. She even agreed to abide by our cover story for his identity, though her price was full access to the Family library for the duration of his Apprenticeship.”

“Smart woman.”

“Yeah.”

“Given that he’ll have access to whatever she discovers in the library as her Apprentice, it was a fair bargain for both sides. Naturally, we had the updated Apprenticeship contract signed before a Goblin Notary and a copy stored in the Family Vaults.”

One of the side effects of the Blood Quill fiasco was a resurgence of Wizards and Witches taking advantage of the impartial Notary service provided by the Goblins to secure their legal documents, a fact that helped improve Wizard-Goblin relations. The Goblins were pleased with the additional business and the new respect that they received from the average Witch or Wizard, while the public – especially those previously unaware – appreciated the security provided by a Goblin Notarized document.

“So,” Melania asked as she joined her husband, “how about you, any prospects for romance?”

Sirius shrugged.

“Unfortunately, most of the Witches that I’ve met are either turned off by my past or are more interested in my position as Lord Black than in me as a person.”

Melania nodded, sagely. “Part of the reason we used to arrange marriages, you know. If you don’t find a match on your own, then the Family can at least help you find someone who will be an asset. Arcturus and I started out that way, though love did grow.”

She patted her husband’s arm, fondly, and he looked down at her with a smile.

“I don’t think that I realized how much until I lost her,” he said and gave her a brief kiss.

 _That,_ Sirius thought, _that’s what I want. What they have, what Sev and Remy have. Maybe someday…_

For now, though, Sirius would focus on enjoying the bachelor life.

“Speaking of romance, though,” Sirius commented, “did you happen to notice Nymie?”

The older couple glanced over at the excitable Metamorphmagus, who was leaning against Remus’ shoulder, deep in discussion with a Black who had served as an Auror in the 1700s.

“What?”

Sirius gestured at his stomach, miming a curve.

“Really? Who’s the father?”

The question made Sirius smirk. “That’s the million knut question. She kind of had a threesome…”

Arcturus raised an eyebrow, while Melania hid a smile.

“Ah, yes. They had a bit too much to drink at Remy and Sev’s fake wedding. So, when she drunkenly confessed to Sev that she thought Remy was fit, in return he offered to let her join their bed for the night. Let’s just say that someone had potent sperm.”

Sirius’ comment had all three of the Blacks snickering, even the normally composed Melania.

“They’re currently in discussion over what to do next. Remus and Severus could bring Nymie in and form a true triad, they could use the Muggle practice of shared custody, or someone could choose to surrender their position as a parent. I think, regardless, they’re planning to have whomever is not the baby’s biological father blood adopt.”

“Well, that does help with the fact that the Family is short on children right now,” Melania said with a smile. “If the Carrow girls were younger, from what Narcissa has already said I am sure that the Malfoys would be doing a blood adoption of their own.”

Meanwhile, Regulus and Harry had drifted over to where the rest of the teens were gathered, along with a few of the Blacks who’d died around the same age. They had been joined by Alphard, who had been a perpetual bachelor and teen at heart though he’d lived to a more respectable middle age.

“With the Weasley twins graduated, there’s an ongoing competition to claim their title as Prankster Kings,” Neville said with a grin at Harry.

“Yes, well I think that Ginny and I are the rightful heirs,” Harry replied. “Right, Gin?”

From her place on Neville’s arm, the redheaded girl nodded. “Yeah, after all, we were the ones who managed to prank Gred and Forge back.”

“That’s because we let you,”

“sister dearest,” her older brothers claimed.

“Not hardly,” she disagreed, with a threatening wave of her wand.

“Now, now, Ginny,” Fred said hastily, ducking behind Mal.

“Don’t do anything rash,” George added, doing the same with Harry.

In response, Ginny gave a sharp smile, returning her wand to its holster. “Now, would I really do something like that?” She asked, using the sweet tone she adopted whenever she needed something from her parents.

“Yes!” The response came from more than just the twins. Everyone who attended Hogwarts with her had either experienced or witnessed Ginny’s explosive temper. Her Bat-bogey Hex had already reached near-legendary status, and she was only a 5th year.

“Mal, Draco, you’re not competing?”

Mafalda merely smirked. “I’m happy to let Ginny be the public prankster. That way, after I deal with the pureblood idiots, I just blame her when they complain to the staff.”

That comment made Ginny roll her eyes, “Yes, yes, I know I’m your stalking horse. But in exchange, I expect your help for my bigger pranks.”

“Deal.”

“So, what have you been up to then these days, Draco?” Alphard asked. Curiously, the blonde blushed instead of answering.

“Oh, he’s been too busy trying – and failing – to flirt with Hermione,” Mal explained as everyone else gaped in shock. “What? Did no one else notice? They’ve been sharing a study table in the library.”

“Really, now?” Harry said teasingly, eyeing his friend. “I didn’t know you viewed violence as foreplay.”

“Shut it, you prat,” Draco replied.

“Make me.”

“Fine,” Draco huffed but didn’t pull out his wand. “Just because you’re too oblivious to notice all the girls trying to flirt with you doesn’t mean that the rest of us have to ignore our emotions.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Oh, I noticed. I’m just not interested. Frankly, I’m more concerned about making sure that one of them doesn’t try slipping me a love potion. Romilda Vane’s stares are a bit… scary.”

His comment made the group laugh. Everyone currently at Hogwarts was aware of Ginny’s dormmate’s obsession with the-boy-who-lived. When Harry had asked Luna to be his date for the Yule Ball during the Triwizard Tournament, she’d nearly hexed the eccentric Ravenclaw. It took Ginny’s best efforts, explaining that Harry viewed the quirky blonde as a little sister, to calm the rabid fan-girl down.

Now, though, the girl seemed to have decided that it was time for Harry to date her. She’d taken to stalking him everywhere, hinting that she’d like to go to Hogsmeade together. So far, Harry’d managed to hold her off by avoiding dating entirely but she just kept getting more and more aggressive.

“Do you think if I told her I was gay it would help things?” Harry asked the group.

“That depends,” Reg replied, frowning at the thought of Miss Vane’s antics. “Are you? I think it would take more than just your statement to convince her.”

“I am, or at least I’ve only been attracted to boys so far,” Harry admitted with a blush.

“Wait, what about Cho?” Ginny asked.

“Well, that was more about shared grief than anything,” Harry replied. “I had a bit of a crush on Cedric in 4th year and then I saw him die, you know. Meanwhile, she was having a hard time processing her emotions from losing her first boyfriend. I suggested the date as a way to get her friends off her back about moving on. She did try to kiss me at one point, but there was…” his voice trailed off.

“Nothing,” Neville finished Harry’s sentence for him. “Yeah, that’s awkward. But at least you both weren’t expecting anything.”

“True. So... any ideas to deal with Vane?”

“Well… I suppose I could…” Regulus began.

“What?” Several people asked. Some of them had noticed the same thing that Sirius and Arcturus had observed earlier that evening and had certain… hopes.

“Well, we could meet up on your next Hogsmeade weekend and go on a fake date. Maybe if she sees you out with a guy in public that might help get her to back off.”

“Great idea,” Mal said, a little slyly. “I think you’d make a cute couple.”

Everyone laughed as both Harry and Regulus blushed.

Taking a break from the gathering, Walburga Black leaned back against her husband as they stood watching the groupings of Blacks – both living and deceased – and their various allies. The groups swirled, combined, split, and then remixed as enthusiastic conversation flowed throughout the crypt and its surroundings.

She eyed each of her boys in turn:

There was Sirius, relaxed and carefree in a way that he hadn’t been since he was a boy. He was waving his hands wildly as he argued about something – probably esoteric Magic - with Cassiopeia and Lucretia.

There was Remus, leaning back against his husband as the other Wizard engaged in conversation with one of the old Black potions masters. The news of Nymphadora’s pregnancy and the public marriage with Severus had helped the werewolf to reassure his wilder half. His pack was secure.

There was Severus, using the ritual to further his studies. He had been reading through some of the old potions journals that he’d found in the Black library and now he could get clarification from the original authors.

There was Regulus, finally able to live his life, and finding contentment with a new set of peers. Sirius had told her that his younger twin had connected with the Weasley twins and was helping them get their joke shop up and running. He would always have a touch of melancholy, especially after learning of all the losses that had occurred while he was sleeping. However, Walburga could see that Regulus was truly recovering from his time under the Nightmare Draught’s hold.

Finally, there was Harry, her baby boy. He’d finally managed to shake the curse of the lush’s prophecy and was developing his own identity, independent of the characters that the Wizarding public had forced upon him. Harry was not the-boy-who-lived, he was not Dumbledore’s Gryffindor Golden Boy, he was just… well, just Harry Potter-Black, her son.

Yes, despite all of their hardships and losses, the Family Black had come out the other side, stronger than ever, and ready to take on the Wizarding World.

The future was truly bright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, we've reached the end of this story. Thanks to everyone who stayed with me on this adventure through a world of Trolling Blacks.  
> A lot of you seemed to expect Dumbledore's take-down to be like Umbridge and Tommy-Boy, big and grand. However, it felt right to instead basically have it be a non-event. For a man like Albus who is all about control and fame, fading into obscurity felt like a worse punishment than some grand fight.  
> As far as I'm concerned this story is complete as it is. I'll leave it up to the reader to imagine what the future might hold for the Family Black (especially Harry and Reg), but know that whatever it might be that the Family will do it together.


End file.
